


This Christmas I Gave You My Heart

by Rachiepoo



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: 25 Days of Harry and Draco, Auror Draco Malfoy, Auror Harry Potter, Auror Training, Christmas Fluff, Dorms, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-09-05 05:05:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 21
Words: 33,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rachiepoo/pseuds/Rachiepoo
Summary: Draco Malfoy, Auror in training.  Harry Potter, the git that can't stopsmilingat him.Also features Pansy, Blaise, Dean, Seamus, the Patil sisters, and Ginny Weasley all bent on getting these two idiots together.This story is part of '25 days of Drarry 2018'.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever writing challenge I'm participating in. I have elected to go the traditional method, of writing each day from a given prompt. Since I am writing as I go, the summary, title, and even rating may change when the story unfolds. Please be patient with me, like I've said this is my first time doing anything like this. Enjoy!

Pansy Parkinson truly had a gift. When she was four years old, she convinced her stoic father to get her a pony. When she was twelve it was to meet the Weird Sisters. And now (at 20) it was to persuade Draco Malfoy to join her for drinks in downtown Muggle London. No one else seemed to have the sway that she possessed. Was it her plump vermilion lips in that pout that she’d perfected over the years? Or perhaps her large chocolate eyes that stared unblinkingly back at you, hoping you’d agree to whatever she asked? Or maybe it was the sheer knowledge that if you didn’t cow to her wishes you’d be on the wrong end of her vicious vengeance—and Draco Malfoy had learned the first time with that one. 

Whatever the reason, Draco was truly helpless in this situation. He’d just finished a grueling week of training, avoiding the general public at all costs, and hiding away in his dormitory. But now here he was, drinking a gin and tonic in a dark corner of some hole in the wall place that’d Draco had never heard of, while Pansy came sauntering over, carrying her own glass of wine. 

“You look dreadful, darling,” she frowned, taking her seat across from him. 

He took a larger pull from his drink before responding, “And you look ravishing as always.” 

She smirked, her eyes trailing him up and down. “It’s been too long, dear. You look tired.” Draco tried to reign in the desire to roll his eyes at that one. She took a delicate sip of her drink and continued, “But I must admit the hard work has paid off. Your arms and shoulders—just what are those Aurors feeding you?” 

“Nothing really, I can’t call that slop they serve us anything even resembling food.” 

Frowning, Draco could already see the plan in motion forming across her face. Sure enough she started, “If you want, I could talk to—” 

He held up his hand, “Please, that won’t be necessary.” He absolutely didn’t want her intervention. Less attention drawn to him, the better. The only way he could get out of this program in one piece would be for him to stay in line, keep his head down. He didn’t need her stirring up trouble. 

“All right, fine,” she crossed her arms in irritation. “Let me just help you, I have this handy potion that’ll make it easier for you to sleep. It’ll help with those dark circles too.” Uncrossing her arms, she started to rifle through her over sized leather bag. Apparently, it was made by some fancy Muggle designer Draco had never heard of, but then again, he still had a lot to learn concerning Muggles. 

She eventually put the vial on the table between them, and Draco quickly pocketed it before anyone bothered to glance their way. He wasn’t even sure if he’d be allowed the potion in all honesty. Aurors had strict guidelines as to what they could consume, and even stricter health checks to make sure no one was abusing. He’d take the vial though, just to appease Pansy. 

Thankfully, after their first drinks the conversation shifted away from Draco and his poor health. Pansy’s life had remained mostly unchanged after the war. The Parkinson’s were fortunate to have remained mostly neutral during Voldemort’s rise to power. As such, she was able to keep up with her lavish lifestyle of living in large beautiful homes, with more wealth than she knew what to do with. Draco envied her in that respect, not so much the mansion living and expensive clothes—but simply the security wealth gave a person. He missed the feeling of being able to travel to wherever he wished, simply because he wanted to go. He missed the feeling of buying things, just for the sake of having it. Now if he needed something, he had to consider whether it was something he needed right that moment or if it was something he could wait till his next paycheck. He was slowly adjusting to his new circumstances, but at times it was still difficult. 

So, it was sort of a shock when she spoke next. “I’m thinking of getting a job.” 

He choked on his drink. Coughing, he cleared his throat. Her perfectly penciled eyebrow rose, watching him carefully. “Why?” he asked, “It’s just, you don’t need one Pansy.” 

“I don’t need a Puddlemere United player either, but it’s something I want.” She winked, finishing off her drink. She started to stand, and Draco quickly rushed to finish his drink as well and begin to put his coat on. “Let’s go dear, I’ll tell you about it on the way home.” 

They walked side by side, Pansy’s London flat was several blocks away. The air around them was getting colder, and Draco cast a quick discrete warming charm over them. When they were comfortable, Pansy began once more, “I just am ready for something new, Draco. There’s only so much shopping and fashion shows and galas a girl can do. I’m ready for a change. I want to do something meaningful.” 

Pausing along the sidewalk, Draco turned to his friend and really looked at her. Pansy was biting on her lips, anxiously looking back at him. Her browns eyes, always so large and expressive were earnest and waiting. Even after all these years, after Draco’s fall from grace and his loss of fame and fortune, she still regarded Draco and his opinion over anyone else. No one else cared what Draco thought these days—no one else paid him much mind at all. Draco’s breath caught in his chest, suddenly overwhelmed at the idea. He had no one else, no other friends or family. Just Pansy. 

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Draco said, “Pansy, I think that is a fantastic idea.” 

Her answering grin spread wide across her face, infectious. Draco tried to keep his lips in place, but it was moot. Just as his lips began to quirk, across the street a building had lit up. Their gazes shifted from each other to look at the store, now covered in bright green Christmas lights. It was the first of many lights they’d no doubt see this holiday season. The words _Harrods_ blazed sharply along the corner of the store, drawing everyone’s attention. But not for long, because as if on cue the remaining buildings along the rest of the street lit up with all colors of the rainbow. 

Pansy laughed, pulling Draco along with her. “Can you believe it?” she asked him as they traveled the last stretch to her flat. “Christmastime already?” 

He shook his head, this time genuinely smiling at her. It’d been too long since he’d smiled in all honesty. “I know...now I have to get you a present.” 

She scoffed, reaching into her bag for her keys. Her flat was in a Muggle neighborhood and even though she could have easily unlocked the door with her wand, she liked to keep up appearances. “Draco Malfoy, you will do no such thing.” He watched her open the door and instantly they were flooded with light from her entrance hall. “All I want for Christmas is to for you to take care of yourself...and well, to be happy.” 

“I am happy,” he lied, looking down at his Auror issued boots. The dragonhide leather was still impeccable, haven’t even broken into. Boots he rarely even had to use just yet. 

He heard her sigh, then felt her hand on his jaw pull him up to look her in the eyes. “Not yet, you are,” she frowned. “But I have faith it’ll happen soon enough.” Leaning over she kissed his cheek. “Wednesday for lunch?” she asked, stepping away from him and into her home. 

“Of course,” he answered, trying his best to smile. Her gaze saw right through that, and Draco tried his hardest not to slink back. Another moment and she’d closed her door. He took a deep breath, then looked around to make sure no one was watching before he apparated. 

The Auror training dormitories loomed in the distance. The only lights illuminated in the night sky were from a few bedroom windows. Christmas, it seemed, was still a long way away. 


	2. Chapter 2

Draco Malfoy lived on the top floor of the Auror trainee dormitory. The building itself was close in size to the manor, and each floor was arranged based on your rank in the program. The lower levels were for the highest ranked officials, actual Aurors that preferred the dormitory, or any official involved in the training process. As you moved up the floors, ranks diminished, till you reached the top to the rookies and recruits. 

Having only started the program three months ago, Draco was well aware of his position in this program. It was not unheard of for lower ranks to feel taunted or teased by upper level trainees, but in Draco’s case it was certainly worse. He knew he was the only Marked man in this whole building, the only one who had a criminal history. Just what exactly was he even doing here?

After the war, Draco tried to maintain as normal a lifestyle as he could. Sure, they had imprisoned his father and mother had fallen ill. There were hefty fines the Malfoys had to pay, and whatever items that were not raided by the ministry were then sold to pay for Narcissa’s growing cost of treatment. As such, the manor had become an empty shell, ostentatious on the outside and completely bare within. No furniture remained, no portraits, no house elves. All that was left of the place were Draco’s bittersweet memories.

The Wizengamot couldn’t try him as an adult. He had a brief sentence of house arrest and then was to report to a probation officer. He was urged to finish his schooling and take his NEWTs, which came as no surprise to him when his results came back all Outstanding. From his exam scores, he drew the attention of the Aurors and was urged to apply to the program. Given his record it was a little unorthodox, however they seemed to think Draco possessed useful knowledge of what it was like on the other side. With nothing left of the manor, no other job prospects (because who would want to hire him?), Draco had very little choice. 

Now here he was, accepted into the training program to the complete astonishment of his peers. Of course, it was dumb luck that he’d entered into the program at exactly the same time as Potter and his gang of Gryffidors. Their floor of the dormitory was flooded with them and each of them looked at him in disgust—it was Hogwarts all over again. The only salvation in all of this was there was an odd number of them, and so he was picked to be the only trainee with his own room. The rest of the room assignments were pretty typical, Potter with Weasley, the Patil sisters, Thomas and Finnigan.

He avoided all of them, kept to his room. Occasionally, yes, he had to run out into the communal living room and kitchen to make a meal now and then. But he always waited till it seemed quiet, or late at night when everyone else had turned in. 

It seemed like an evening like any other. Draco had finished studying on the common abbreviations used in Auror reports and he was in need of tea if he was going to finish through the whole assignment. He peeked into the common area, was relieved to see it empty, and made his way to the kettle around the corner. Standing there, he rubbed at his eyes while he waited for the pot to boil. 

  


All of a sudden Potter’s door burst open and music blared into the silence. It was some muggle song, string instruments and a piano in the background while a man sang about chestnuts roasting on an open fire, Jack Frost nipping at your nose. Draco had no idea what that nonsense was about, but before he could even take time to comprehend it all, Potter was backing out of his door, hunched over and dragging a tree into the living room! 

“Potter!” Draco started, not really knowing what to say to all of this.

Instantly, Potter stopped. He turned around to face Draco, a sheepish smile on his face. “Oh sorry, didn’t know anyone was out here...”

“What on earth are you doing?”

Biting his lip nervously, he looked at Draco through his black fringe of hair. “Er well...I just wanted to surprise everyone. Y’know...since we’ll be staying here for the holidays. I thought it would be nice to have a tree. Get in the festive spirit sort of thing...”

Draco eyed Potter carefully, all the while the music continued to surround them, jingle bells this time. The other man was dressed in one of those atrocious sweaters once more, garland wrapped around him like a shawl, and a red Santa hat covered most of his ridiculous mess of hair. “Yeah you’re festive all right,” he attempted to tease, but the tone had no bite and for some reason he was having a hard time keeping a straight face.

“Thanks!” Potter grinned automatically, but then realized shortly after just who he was talking to and quickly turned around to tend to the tree. Draco was relieved his back was turned, because he had no idea how to react to _that_. Potter never _smiled_ at him or said _thanks_ for anything concerning Draco. The mere concept of it all was making his heart race and his head fill with questions to the point it was making him dizzy. 

The kettle whistled just as Potter had hauled the tree up into the corner of the room and was wiping his brow. Draco jumped, but quickly regained his nerves and started to fill his cup. Tea, yes, that’s what he was doing. Getting his tea and getting the hell out of here—leave Potter to his weird Christmas rituals. 

“Hey,” he called, his arms lifted as he was draping the garland around the top section of the tree. Draco looked over, and Merlin help him, Potter’s sweater had ridden up revealing a stripe of golden skin. “Mind making me a cup?” he asked, completely oblivious to the crisis Draco was now in.

“Sure,” he muttered in a clipped tone, secretly wanting to run away instead. He opened up the cabinet and looked at all the mugs of his dormmates. His face now hidden, he took a moment to take a deep breath and calm himself. Just which cup was Potter’s? It was a minute before he eventually made an educated guess and bypassed the bright red cup with snitches to the white one with black deer heads and antlers. His hands were shaking as he poured the tea, but he was fortunate enough not to spill anything. Then, without thinking, he pulled the sugar bowl over and dumped a huge helping along with some milk. Draco preferred his tea a little bitter, but he knew Potter had quite a sweet tooth.

Potter walked over to his cup after he finished stringing the garland. Picking up the cup he took a large swig and moaned in delight. “Mmm...this is good Malfoy,” he commented, a smile still lingering over his cup. 

Draco’s eyes quickly darted away from Potter’s lips on his cup to look down at his own mug in his hands. He took a sip of his own, just to soothe his nerves. “Right well,” he mumbled. “Got to get back to my assignments...” He avoided looking at the other man, turned around and ran. He knew he was making it even more awkward, but he didn’t care at this point. He couldn’t take another second of this—whatever it was. 

“Merry Christmas, Malfoy!” Potter practically shouted after him as Draco slammed his door shut. He leaned against the wall, panting. 

Just what the hell was Potter playing at? 


	3. Chapter 3

“So, let me get this straight. You ran away with your tail between your legs all because Harry fucking Potter _smiled_ at you?” 

“Could you keep it down?” Draco hissed, slinking down further into his chair across from Pansy. “I think they heard you across the pond.” 

She scoffed, clearly not caring at the attention she was drawing to their table. “He liked the tea you made him—even wished you a Merry Christmas, and you ran away like a frightened school girl. Merlin, you’re hopeless.” She then waved her hand and signaled to a waiter. He paused at their table and before he could even get in a word in, she smiled politely up at him and asked, “Does this establishment offer anything a little stronger we could put in this coffee? My friend is a lost cause—think we need to get out the hard stuff...” 

Embarrassed, Draco had now covered his face in his hands while the waiter laughed lightheartedly. “I’m sorry, miss. This is only a coffee shop, but perhaps the pub around the corner could help in that regard.”

With her bright red lips in a pout, she continued, “Oh all right. Could you please bring us two more of those lemon bars then? Maybe the extra sugar would help this disaster...”

“Certainly, I’ll be right back,” he grinned at both of them and quickly brought over another helping of the dessert. She winked up at the man, which he returned before he checked on his other tables. 

They sat in silence for a few minutes as they dug into their lemon bars. About halfway through with his, Draco set his fork down. “Ugh, Pansy. It’s not so much the smile. It’s the fact that it's _him._ He’s never been nice to me before! Why start now?”

She shrugged, pursing her lips in concentration. “He pulled you out of that fire, I’d say that was pretty nice of him...he testified for you and your mother in court. Another thing, I’d say, that’s pretty nice.”

“That’s different,” he groaned, rubbing at his temples. “You didn’t see how they all acted when I stepped foot in that dorm. It was chaos, Pansy, utter chaos. Weasel was as red as his hair and up in my face. If Thomas weren’t there to hold him back, I would have been beaten to a pulp.”

“Well yeah, that’s Weasley for you. What was _Potter_ doing?”

“He just stood there and let it all happen!”

“Maybe he was just in shock or something,” she shrugged, finishing off her coffee. “Has he done anything else since you moved in there?”

“Ugh, don’t get me started on all that. He’s a terror to live with, the whole lot of them. They are loud, they are messy, they are carrying on and playing music all hours of the night. Finnigan and Thomas are always making out on the couch. They have their own room for fuck’s sake.”

“Hmm...” She dabs delicately at her lips, wiping the crumbs of her lemon bar off her face. “Do you have a problem with that, Draco?”

“What? No, of course not!” He flushes, looking slightly to the left of her, his gaze focusing on her diamond earrings. “It’s just something I’d rather not see first thing in the morning...”

“No, you’d rather see Potter starkers am I right?”

“Yes, exactly—what? NO!” She laughed manically as Draco turned a brilliant shade of red. He thumped his head against the table. “Pansy, you’re evil. Pure evil,” he mumbled into the tablecloth.

“Yes well, Slytherin darling.” She dug around in her purse and dropped a hefty amount of cash on the table. “As pleasant as this late lunch was, I think it’s about time to go. I’m meeting Blaise later for some sort of double date.”

“How crude,” Draco wrinkled his nose, standing up from their table and wrapping his coat around himself. 

Pansy giggled, pulling her scarf closer to her face and slipping her knit cap over her head. “I know, it’s a little unusual. But perhaps we’ll have fun.”

“Right,” he smirked. They made their way outside and stood underneath the awning, where he leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Take care of yourself.”

“You too dear,” she responded, kissing his own cheek. Then she took off towards her flat, just a few blocks away. 

He walked the opposite direction, heading towards the nearest apparition point. This street was quite a bit more heavily travelled, full of Muggles doing their Christmas shopping, food trucks lining the street and offering up all sorts of goods, and rowdy music seeping out from the pubs. The apparition point was just past this one bar, around the corner and down the alley. He was just about to apparate when a loud hooting noise drew his attention.

A beautiful owl swooped down to him, landing on Draco’s shoulder and ruffling his hair with his feathers. He had never seen this owl before, and he was intrigued, simply because he hadn’t the faintest idea who could be writing him. The only person who wrote Draco these days just had lunch with him, so it couldn’t have been Pansy. 

Draco waited for the bird to settle before he even attempted to retrieve the letter. When the owl finally released the envelope, he pushed off Draco and flew up and away into the snowy sky. So, no reply was needed. He frowned, looking at the letter and noticed there was nothing written on the outside. He peeled open the envelope and pulled out the parchment. 

_Draco,_

_Wrackspurts_ _like the silence, makes it easier for them to get into your ears. Play this when your brain goes fuzzy._

_Happy Christmas_

_Luna_

Inside the letter was a round multicolored circle. Draco recognized it as one of those weird discs Thomas was always playing with, to make the music blare in the common room. He smiled, twirling the disc on his finger. He had apologized to Luna shortly after his trial, and though the two have sent occasional messages back and forth, this gift was totally unexpected. But then again, Luna did things in her own way and Draco appreciated the gesture for what it was.

Later that night he was laying on his bed, twirling the disc around once more. He was listening carefully as the last of his dormmates headed to bed. When the coast was clear, he tiptoed into the living room and went over to the music player. He examined the contraption for several minutes, pushing buttons and twisting knobs and nothing was even happening. He was just about to give up on the whole thing when someone asked behind him, “Need help with that?”

Draco jumped, practically tripping into the nearby Christmas tree. “Fuck Potter, don’t do that!”

He chuckled, walking over to the music player and fiddled with it some more. “Oh, it’s on the auxiliary setting.” Flicking another switch, he was able to pop open the thing and took out the existing disc. He slipped it into a paper folder and then turned towards Draco, his hand outstretched. “Here, let me,” he practically whispered, his hand hesitant as his fingers brushed over Draco’s hand that held the disc. 

The moment their skin touched, Draco was frozen. He looked at their hands, feeling his face heat up. He fumbled with the disc, dropping it awkwardly into Potter’s hands. If Potter noticed Draco’s fumble, he hadn’t said anything. Instead his lips broke out into a small smile, before he slipped the music into the player. He pushed another button and music slowly started to fill the room. The sound of drums and a keyboard started playing to a steady beat. Harry let out a delighted laugh, which made Draco’s insides squirm.

_Last Christmas, I gave you my heart_   
_But the very next day you gave it away_   
_This year, to save me from tears_   
_I'll give it to someone special_

Despite it being a Christmas song of all things, Draco secretly liked the soft voice of the singer. He bit his lip, trying to reign in a smile. Potter was grinning widely now, and it was rather infectious actually. It was just too much. Draco had to turn away and look at the player as  it finished the song. 

They stood there quietly, Draco dressed in his typical Slytherin-green silk pajamas, Potter in some red flannels. The multicolored lights off the tree illuminated their faces. When the song reached its end, Draco looked over and Potter was watching him intently, a curious smile on his face. “Didn’t think you liked Christmas music all that much,” he commented.

He shrugged trying to appear nonchalant about the whole thing, “It was a gift.”

“Awesome gift.” If at all possible, Potter’s smile brightened. Draco had to agree. It was an awesome gift. 


	4. Chapter 4

That night he learned that the proper term of the circular gift Luna gave him was a _compact disc_ or _cd_. Potter also informed him that the music player was called a stereo and that not only could it play cds, but it could also play tapes and the radio (which was some sort of Muggle wireless network). Draco was enthralled with the concept of it all, doing all of this without magic. It was mad, really. 

It wasn’t long before they had moved to the couch and pulled the stereo with them onto the coffee table. Potter continued to point out what each button did, while the cd kept playing through the rest of the tracks. “And this button, er, it’s used to randomize what songs play from a cd. Then this one can repeat the song over and over, or you can press this one which will just repeat the whole cd over again.” 

Just then, the music stopped playing. Draco looked up at him in confusion, “What did you do?” 

“Oh, um, nothing,” He frowned, looking at the little screen that displayed the track numbers. “I think it’s finished actually.” 

“Oh,” Draco said simply. He bit his lip, wondering what they were going to do now. He really wasn’t ready for bed just yet, and dare he say it? He was sort of enjoying Potter’s company. For once. 

“So, did you like it?” He asked, green eyes boring into grey. 

Under that gaze, Draco couldn’t possibly look away even if he tried. “Oh...um, yes. It was quite lovely.” They were talking about the cd, weren’t they? 

Potter’s face broke out into a grin, the lights from the Christmas tree making him practically sparkle in the glow. It wasn’t fair, really—how he could look like _that_ in some horrid plaid pants and an oversized t-shirt. Draco always had to put in some sort of effort, and even then, he was pretty sure he didn’t sparkle, thank you very much. 

He didn’t know what compelled him to say what he said next, but the words came out of his mouth anyway. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden, Potter?” I mean, yes, he was curious about it all. But a part of him didn’t want to ask, in case things started to revert back to unpleasantness. He kind of enjoyed these quiet moments between them. 

“Oh,” Potter flushed, turning his gaze to focus on the tree. Draco was shocked to realize he _liked_ that color of pink on Potter's cheeks. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No,” he responded carefully. “This just isn’t like us, wouldn’t you agree? You’re supposed to fight me every step of the way, think I’m always up to something. Yell at me or punch me, I don’t know. We can duel for old times sake.” 

He shrugged nonchalantly. “I mean, yeah, at first I was a little suspicious. But these few months I’ve seen you’re just as invested in this program as the rest of us. It’d be kind of stupid to pick fights with someone on my own team. Ron and everyone else may still hate you to some extent, but I think I could be convinced otherwise.” At that, he turned to look at Draco and _winked._

Draco’s breath caught, then he was choking and coughing, and pounding his chest. Merlin, Pansy wasn’t kidding. This was a disaster! To make matters worse, Potter wasn’t laughing at him and seriously thought something was wrong! His emerald eyes widened in alarm and he leaned over, wrapping an arm around Draco and patting him on the back as if to help him! 

He shut his eyes, his whole body clenching from the feel of Potter touching his back. His hand was warm, traveling up and down Draco’s spine and driving him completely mental. Draco needed to get out of there before things got worse. He was seriously considering another coughing fit to see what Potter would do next. Would he notice if Draco was faking it? 

_Fuck. What am I doing?_

“Are you all right?” he asked, his face leaning in and closer than he really needed to be. That certainly wasn’t helping Draco breathe any easier right now. 

“F-fine,” he croaked. “Think I just need to lay down. If you’ll excuse me.” He made to stand, and Potter was instantly on his feet with him. 

“Are you sure? I could help get you to bed...” His arm was dangerously closing in on Draco again. 

_Yes please,_ Draco’s brain leaped onto that thought. _Help me to bed Potter._ Draco’s face felt like it was on fire. He had to get out of there, fast. 

He quickly stopped Potter from getting any closer by taking a step back, his hand holding Potter’s arm in place. “Potter, I’m fine. Really.” He knew he was blushing now, and there was no helping it. 

Potter frowned, concern still across his features. “All right, I guess.” He dropped his arm and watched Draco carefully as he backed out of the room and headed for his dorm. “Have a good night, Malfoy...” 

“Um, you too,” he replied, trying to not sound as awkward as he felt. Once inside his room, he leaned against his door with his hands tangled in his hair. Fuck, this whole thing was truly awful. How could he possibly be friends with Potter? He couldn’t even act like a normal person around the git! 

Never mind the fact that when Draco finally got to sleep, he dreamed of Potter sparkling with all those Christmas lights. If he had nothing else on but the Christmas lights, that was a tiny detail Draco was seriously trying not to dwell on too much. 

Ok, so maybe he was in trouble. At least a little bit. 


	5. Chapter 5

He didn’t start running till his last year at Hogwarts. With the war pressing in all around him, Draco had felt trapped. He knew his time was short, that sooner or later he’d be called upon once more. He dreaded thinking about the manor, what that monster was doing within his home. Home was supposed to be a welcoming and safe feeling, but then war happened and it was anything but.

Draco ran in the mornings, before the rest of his fellow classmates even stirred. It was the only time he had to himself. He’d layer his clothes when it was cold, charm his shoes to resist slipping, and even repel the rain. Inclement weather didn’t stop him. He needed to run each morning, just like he needed to eat or breathe. It was his only escape in those dark months.

When Draco ran, he let his mind wander. He thought of his parents, his friends, Dumbledore, Severus, the Dark Lord—and yes, of course Harry Potter. At Hogwarts, it was more of a question of _what happens now_? He knew it was going to end someday, knew it was all coming to a point. He dreaded thinking of the next time his Mark would flare—he wasn’t ready to go. He was never ready for that. If his Mark burned and Draco left, what would he find at the end of that summon? 

He didn’t want to think about it. He knew somewhere out there was Harry Potter. No word from Voldemort meant Harry Potter was safe, that he was working to stop this. Draco hated Potter, but he hated Voldemort more. Potter had to win, he _had_ to.

Once it was all over, Draco still kept running. He served his house arrest, running more often than he ever had before. He hated staying inside his house, the residual magic from _him_ made Draco sick to his stomach more often than not. He managed to find one wing of the manor untouched from Voldemort’s filth—his old nursery. He’d transfigured his old crib into a suitable bed, and wore his school wardrobe more than anything. He didn’t even want to step foot in his old bedroom, he was afraid of what shadows lurked there.

After Draco watched Potter give his statement in court on his behalf, Draco ran even more. In the mornings, he’d run past the few remaining peacocks. They’d startle as he jogged on past, and any other time of his life perhaps he would have been amused at that. But his mind strayed to Potter and just _why_ he bothered trying to save him. Draco should have been fined like the Death Eater he was—regardless of whether he killed anyone or not. He was still Marked.

Lunch would come and go, and Draco would find himself wiping his brow and leaning against the outside wall of the stables. Their horses long since fled, when darkness resided upon the grounds. Draco should have run with them, in all honesty. He panted, attempting to regulate his breathing once more. His mind still drifting to Potter, wondering if he had given a statement for all of them, if it was just part of his duty as the Savior. Or maybe he only bothered with Draco, for whatever reason Draco didn’t know. 

With the night sky blinking up above, Draco would run once more. This time, however, he’d slow down halfway through his lap. He’d walk the rest of his journey, his eyes scanning the constellations up above. His mind always on Potter, wondering what the man was doing now. Was he going to return to Hogwarts? Was he going to marry girl Weasley? Was he going to live happily ever after—while Draco just kept on existing? Perhaps. This was Harry Potter’s story, after all. Draco Malfoy played no major role in it, even if his wand is what killed the bastard in the end.

But now, things were different.

Draco got up early that morning. His dream of Potter and Christmas lights was just too distracting, making his head spin and it was almost impossible for him to settle back down. He attempted to banish the thought of that tempting dream, because that sort of thinking was pure madness. But it was no use. He knew what he needed to do to clear his head.

He pulled on his Auror issued active wear, which consisted of soft sweatpants and a basic t-shirt with the Ministry of Magic logo. Slipping on his running trainers, he also grabbed a hooded sweatshirt, and headed out of his room. The Patil sisters were chattering away at the large kitchen table, but stopped suddenly when they caught sight of Draco. They didn’t say anything mean or condescending, but Draco didn’t linger enough to give them much of an opportunity. 

Before he knew it, he was outside and pleased to see fresh snow across the grounds. It had been snowing on and off for weeks now, but this was the first snow to have actually accumulated to a few inches. Secretly, Draco always loved the magical way snow transformed the world around him. It was breathtakingly beautiful, and made him remember snow angels with his mum and throwing snowballs at Blaise and Pansy. 

Just then, he wondered what the rest of London looked like with this snowfall. He apparated to a park he liked to frequent in the heart of Pansy’s muggle neighborhood. It was just as beautiful, each building sporting a nice covering of snow. Fence posts, Muggle telephone booths, mailboxes, park benches—nothing had escaped last night’s snow. He grinned, taking it all in.

He ran the perimeter of the park in no time, pleased to see the snow hadn’t faltered in any area of the park. No doubt, in an hour or two the Muggle kids would come flocking to build snowmen. Draco figured now would probably be wise to get back, before he’d be seen vanishing out of thin air.

Back at the training dorm, he was jogging his way back up to the building when he felt it.

_Smack_.

He turned swiftly around and there stood Potter, several feet away with a shit eating grin. In his hand was another snowball. 

“Oh, it’s on Potter!”

Harry Potter laughed, his whole face lighting up. His green eyes twinkled, playfully. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ack, I fell behind! That's what I get for getting lost reading a really good fic! I'm going to keep at it though, try and catch up on the weekend! <3


	6. Chapter 6

It started out as just the two of them, launching snowballs and chasing each other across the grounds. Then Potter had overshot his throw and just so happened to hit Parvati Patil square in the chest as she was walking out of the dorm. She wailed, and then her sister was crouching to the ground and rolling up her own ball to throw at them in retaliation. Then it was two against two, and Potter and Draco had formed some sort of silent alliance and were playing against the girls. 

Eventually Weasley came out of the building, squinting to see what they were doing. Draco couldn’t resist this opportunity, and threw his next snowball right in his face. Potter laughed hysterically at that, rolling around on the snow. The girls took that opportunity to gang up on Potter and launch an assault of snow at him, soaking his hair and shirt. “Ow,” he laughed, wiping his hair and causing it to stick up in an even more wild angle. “Draco, help me,” he pleaded. 

He jerked his head, looking down at Potter in shock. He’d called him _Draco_ , and it’d rendered him speechless. He stood there, who knew how long—but it was long enough that Weasley had closed in on him and threw the first punch. 

“Ron!” Potter shouted, bolting up and attempting to reign in his friend. 

Draco had doubled over, clutching his mouth which had busted open. Blood was seeping onto his hands, and the coppery taste overwhelmed his senses. It filled his nose, making it almost impossible to breathe. He could feel it dripping down his chin, and without thinking he wiped the blood with his sleeve. There was a lot of blood...but possibly it just looked worse than it actually was. 

“What the fuck, Ron?” He heard Potter shout. 

“He threw snow in my face, mate! I can barely fucking see, the bastard!” 

“It’s a game, Jesus,” Potter huffed, and Draco could hear the crunch of snow as he made his way over to where Draco was hunched over. 

“Harry--just what are you doing?” 

“Oh bugger off, Ron,” he groaned. Then Draco felt Potter’s hand on his back, warming him instantly. “You all right?” he practically whispered, his breath hot on Draco’s neck. Draco repressed a shiver, clutching his lip to stop the bleeding. He couldn’t really answer with his mouth full of blood, and Potter seemed to realize that because he turned to face him. “Merlin, let’s get you inside,” he’d suggested as soon as he got a good look at the damage. 

Draco could feel Potter’s gentle touch at the small of his back, guiding him back into the dorms. Ron sputtered as they walked on past. “Oh so it‘s going to be like that, is it?” He shouted after them, “You’re going to take _his_ side in all this? You know what he is, Harry! He shouldn’t even be here!” 

Potter shrugged on past him without another word, his fingers now gripping the back of Draco’s sweatshirt and pulling them inside the building. They made their way quickly up to their floor and once there Draco tried to head back to his room. Potter wouldn’t have that though, and tugged him along to his own room, kicking open the door with his foot. Draco could barely see with the blood covering his face, but he felt Potter’s hands shift to his shoulders and pushed him down to sit on a soft surface. A bed. Potter’s bed. Oh Merlin, he hoped it was Potter’s bed. 

“I’ll be right back, I’ve got a dittany solution.” Draco stayed hunched over and waiting, hearing Potter shuffle on into his bathroom. It wasn’t long before he came back and Draco held out his hand expectantly. But what he felt next started him, because now there was a damp cloth across his cheeks. Potter was cleaning him up, and Draco had trouble breathing already but now it seemed like he stopped altogether. 

The wet rag inched slowly to his nose and mouth, where the pain was most intense. Draco winced as Potter made contact with his nose. “Sssh,” soothed the other man. “I have to clean you up first, before I can apply the potion. There’s so much blood...” Draco simply tilted his head, giving a small nod and leaning closer to allow Potter better access. 

He made small dabbing motions along his nose, Draco clenching his eyes shut. After what felt like eternity, Potter slid the cloth further down and grabbed Draco’s chin softly. The contact of his bare fingers holding Draco still made his stomach flutter. _Oh Merlin, not now_. But before he could dwell too much on that thought, the rag slowly ran across his bottom lip. Draco hissed instantly. 

“Ahh, sorry,” Potter mumbled. He was so close Draco could feel his breath hitting his cheeks as he exhaled. Curiously, Draco finally opened his eyes. He was lost, staring at Potter merely inches away from him. He had a deep frown on his face, his eyes focused entirely on Malfoy’s lips. That fluttering feeling rose up into his chest. “Merlin, this looks terrible. Let me see if this will help...if it doesn’t we might have to take you to the onsite healer...” 

Potter grabbed at a bottle, uncorking it and dabbed his fingers inside. His eyes never left Draco’s face, and soon his fingers returned. He started the same path he had before, focusing on Draco’s nose. A cooling tingling sensation enveloped him, the pain easing away. Minutes passed and he was gradually able to start breathing out of his nose, the scent of blood gone. 

At this point, Draco was feeling remarkably better. He could have even reached for the solution himself and applied the rest to his swollen lips. But why would he bother when Potter was holding his jaw steady, lost in rubbing the solution over his skin. Down his nose those fingers trailed, to now focus on the line of his cupid’s bow. Draco’s eyes never left his face. 

Finally, he reached Draco’s bottom lip, and the combination of the paste on his skin and Potter’s fingers caused Draco to let out a gasp. Potter instantly removed the fingers on his lips, his eyes widening in alarm. “Have I hurt you?” he asked, his eyes finally moving up to meet Draco’s. 

Their eyes connected, Draco staring transfixed at Potter. “No,” he croaked. His mouth was so full of that coppery taste, the next second completely dry. He gulped, which then caused him to notice Potter still hadn’t removed his hand from his jaw. In fact, it was almost as if he was starting to grip his face, pulling him even closer. 

_Fuck_. 

Potter licked his lips, and Draco just about lost it. This was not happening. This couldn’t be happening. Potter surely wasn’t about to-- 

“Hey Harry, have you seen my... _oh_ _shit._ _”_ Because of course Dean Thomas had to burst open the door to Potter’s room at just that moment. Draco’s face felt on fire and automatically he stood up from the bed and ran. 

“Fuck, Dean! Fucking knock you wanker!” Shouted Potter. 

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know!” 

Draco barely heard the rest of the conversation, he was certainly too confused or embarrassed to stay around there another moment. He locked himself in his room, panting as he tried to regain some sort of breathing. It was as if he hadn’t breathed the whole time he was in Potter’s room, and perhaps that really was the case. 

He needed some time to himself, to think through just what the fuck had just happened. He pointed his wand at the door, firmly locking the door and putting up a silencing charm in the process. He wasn’t sure if Potter would try to get in, but he absolutely couldn’t see him now. He needed to think, he needed to calm down. He needed to ignore just how fucking tight his sweatpants were around his groin. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, laying on his bed, and passed out. 

  


It was dark when Draco awoke. He cringed as he sat up and saw the bloody sweater he was still wearing. He pulled it off and threw it in the corner with the rest of his laundry, only now noticing the owl sitting patiently on the perch outside his bedroom window. “Come in, darling,” he cooed, instantly recognizing the owl as Pansy’s. The bird held a letter. 

_Come by my place when you can. I absolutely have to tell you about that date I had the other night. Wear something Muggle and nice, we’re going for drinks._

He gave her an owl treat before she turned around and flew out into the night sky. Draco shivered, shutting the window before he turned to his wardrobe. He pulled out a nice suit with matching trousers, and made his way into the bathroom. In the mirror, Draco realized he looked terrible. He still had dry blood caking the edge of his lips and nose, and his hair was mussed from rolling around in the snow earlier. There was no other option, he got in the shower and wiped it all away. Even though he felt like a complete disaster and nothing made sense anymore, he at least needed to make himself look put together for Pansy. 

An hour later, they had met up and Pansy was leading him through the same path he’d taken earlier that day. The park was lined with many benches, but this time the snow had melted. They watched as Muggles slipped around in the slush, and Draco had never been more thankful for the charms on his boots. 

“So, you’ll never guess who our dates were the other night,” Pansy laughed, pulling Draco away from a large snow puddle. 

“Hmm, Anthony Goldstein and Michael Corner,” Draco guessed. 

She made a face, and Draco laughed along with her. “Nope, try a different house.” 

“Oh, so it _is_ someone from Hogwarts?” Pansy grinned, nodding anxiously. “Hmmm...” Draco couldn’t think who else it could be honestly. Blaise had dated practically their whole year of students, both men and women—whereas Pansy was quite picky with who she went out with. For Pansy to be smiling like she was now, it had to be someone truly outrageous. 

Before he could get another guess in, Pansy couldn’t handle much more of this. She interrupted, “Oh it’s Weasley and Longbottom! Can you believe it?” She was giggling now, her face lighting up. 

Draco stopped her with a tug to her arm. They stood underneath the decorated trees of the park. Each tree was sporting a different color of lights, and at any other time Draco would have marveled at how beautiful it all was. Instead his mind was elsewhere, “Weasley? You went out on a date with Ronald Weasley?!” 

“Ew, Draco, don’t be crude.” Draco immediately felt relief at that. Let her date anyone else, but not that fucking prick. 

“Well did Blaise got out with him?!” He screeched out a second later. He honestly didn’t think Ronald Weasley even liked blokes, but Blaise did have a track record for convincing the straightest of men. 

She laughed once more, shaking her head. “No, Merlin no, Draco! No one is dating Ronald Weasley except bushy-haired Granger.” He was relieved once more, then confused. Before he could ask her, Pansy clarified, “It was Ginny. Blaise is seeing her. Apparently, Blaise has been trying to get her to go out with him for weeks, and she kept turning him down.” 

“Really?” Draco frowned, “I thought Ginevra and Potter...” 

She shook her head, pulling Draco along with her once more. “Let’s go, Draco. I’ll tell you about it when we get to the bar. It’s fucking freezing out here...” 


	7. Chapter 7

“So, what do you mean they haven’t been together since 6th year? I saw them after the battle, arm in arm. The Prophet’s taken loads of pictures of them kissing. It’s sickening really.” Draco said over his vodka tonic. 

Pansy smirked, sipping her glass of merlot. “Honestly Draco. Have you kept each and every Prophet article? I thought you were over this by now...” 

“Over _what_ exactly? Just what are you suggesting?” He asked, his voice rising in irritation. 

She waved her hand, trying to abate the situation. “Oh, do calm down. We all know, we’ve known since second year. It’s kind of an unspoken truth throughout Gryffindor and Slytherin. Watch Harry Potter obsess over Malfoy. Watch Malfoy act oblivious to the whole thing, while secretly he loves all the attention! Harry Potter has had a fixation on you, always has to come in and save the day. Saving you from fiendfyre, saving you from Azkaban. Then there’s you, and Draco you think you’re discrete but it’s so fucking obvious.” 

“What the fuck are you talking about?” 

She rolled her eyes to the ceiling. “Merlin, you’re fucking hopeless. Just fucking tell Potter already. It’s driving me around the twist.” 

“Tell him _what_?” He demanded, his face flaming in frustration. 

“Tell him how mad you are about him! Tell him you want to fuck him into next week! Tell him you want to kiss that stupid grin off his face! Tell him about how much he pisses you off—not from what he does, but what he doesn’t do! Tell him to stop with this stupid game you’ve been playing since Hogwarts and _get on with it already!_ FUCK,” She ended on a shout, tipping the rest of her wine down her throat and chugging it. The rest of the bar cheered at that, people getting out of their seats to give her a round of applause. 

Draco hid his face behind his hands. His face as red as the stupid garland decorating the bar. Eventually he mumbled, “Pansy, I hate you.” 

“Yeah, just as much as Potter. Which means not at all.” She slid her empty wine glass across the bar. “Darling, can I get a few shots now? My mouth is dry from all that wine.” 

The bartender laughed, pulling out a line of glasses and filling them with the same vodka that was in Draco’s drink. He winked at them then said, “For you and your friend. If you’re the only one that drinks them miss, then that’s fine too.” 

“How sweet,” she smiled charmingly. Draco groaned next to her. 

“Now enough about that, let me tell you about Neville. Have you seen him lately, Draco? The man has grown to be super fit!” 

“Are you sure we’re talking about the same Longbottom here?” he asked in disbelief. He finished his own drink and then reached for one of the shot glasses. 

They both took their shot, tilting their heads back at the same time and then slamming the glass back onto the bar. Pansy let the alcohol wash over them before she said, “Yes, same one actually. He’s working on his Herbology mastery. Apparently, he’s really good with his hands...” 

“Now _that_ is something I didn’t need to know...” 

“If he’s as good with his hands as he is with his lips, I think I’ll let him shag me next time,” she winked. 

Draco sputtered on his next shot, punching his chest to get it to go down. Pansy giggled evilly—if you could even have an evil giggle. Pansy certainly had one. “Ugh, are you trying to kill me?” he asked, after he finally got the drink to settle into his chest. 

“No, darling. If I wanted to kill you, I’d have done it already.” She smirked, taking another shot. Draco had no choice but to follow her lead, downing another drink as well. 

  


“Fuck,” Draco groaned, outside the dorm. He had slurred the wrong Floo address and had to make the embarrassing trek from the Ministry back to the training dormitory. Now here he was, practically midnight, standing outside in the cold. The brisk air stung his cheeks, and if he hadn’t drunk all those shots he might have felt even slightly more sober. But it did nothing, the world still spun around him. He leaned against the door, his face pressing into the wreath hanging there. 

It smelled of delicious pine, like the woods and the earth. It made Draco think of one of those colognes Potter used to wear in 6th year. Draco would always get a whiff of the scent in Potions class, the heat from the cauldrons causing the smell to permeate in Draco’s nose. It smelled nice--just like this wreath. “Mmmm, nice...” he smiled, practically nuzzling the wreath. 

What was he doing? Oh yeah. He remembered. He fumbled around in his pockets for his wand. He waved it around the front of the door, trying not to fall over. Thankfully the door still read his magical signature and opened up for him. When he finally made his way to the top floor, he stumbled into the living room. Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan were necking on the couch again, but Draco just shrugged, walking on past. The sight of them together was nothing new, now. If he kept around there much longer it’d just make him feel lonely and pathetic. 

“Malfoy, hold up,” he vaguely heard Thomas call after him. Oh no, not this. 

He turned back around, despite everything. He knew this wasn’t a good idea, but what the hell. The alcohol running through his veins made him care even less. “What?” he asked, arms crossing over his chest. 

“Merlin, you’re sloshed!” Finnigan piped up next to his boyfriend. 

“Oi, shush you,” Thomas pushed him back onto the couch. “Listen, Malfoy. I just wanted to apologize. If I’d have known you were in there with Harry, I’d have never walked in like that. It wasn’t my place and I feel like a right arsehole over the whole thing.” 

Draco waved absently, “Oh it was nothing really. Nothing to worry about, Thomas.” 

“You can call me Dean,” he said, then quickly added, “Didn’t look like nothing to me. Looked like you two were about to—” 

“He was HEALING me,” Draco shouted, flushing. 

“With his tongue?” Finnigan asked, grinning widely. 

“NO!” Draco yelled, blushing even darker. He didn’t know why he was still standing here talking to these two. Nothing good could come of this but further embarrassment, surely. 

Dean could sense he was about to leave and quickly said, “Oh just ignore him. What we really want to say is that we think you two are...well, sweet together.” 

“Sweet?!” Draco shrieked. “I am not sweet!” 

“So just Harry then? Harry’s sweet?” Seamus Finnigan was quite enjoying this whole exchange. If Draco wasn’t so tipsy he’d have flung his wand at him, trying to wipe that stupid smile off his face. 

“Yes, Harry’s sweet!” He agreed with his weak tongue, then silently cursed himself when the words registered to his brain. “Now if you’ll excuse me, bed. I need to get to bed. Not Harry’s bed—my bed.” 

Why did he say that last bit again? Draco had no idea, but it resulted in both Dean and Seamus laughing hysterically on the couch. Draco grumbled, made his way to his room and slammed the door shut. “FUCK YOU GUYS,” he shouted through the wall. 

Not missing a beat, Seamus shouted back, “We’re not into threesomes, but I’m sure Harry would love to FUCK YOU!” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, my brain just wanted to write FUCK a million times in this chapter. I think I'm going to change the rating on this story LOL. Woot, two chapters in a day, now I'm only a day behind again. Let's do this!


	8. Chapter 8

Draco couldn’t believe his luck. All he wanted to do was finish his morning jog, perhaps grab a cup of coffee on his way back to get a shower. But the frantic patronus of his stealth and tracking professor put that plan on hold. “Shit,” he swore, running out of the park—the slick of snow licking up his trainers. How could he have forgotten? It was Monday, he had an exam on Monday! 

Entering into a public loo, Draco tried to look at anything but the dirty walls, sinks and toilets. He shuddered, stepping into the nearest stall and went ahead and flushed himself. This method of travel always disgusted him, but he had no other choice right now. On the other side, he had little time to do anything else but run through the Atrium on his way to class.

“You’re late,” growled Professor Calderon, his arms crossed as he watched Draco make his way to his seat. Caleb Calderon was a frightening old man on the best of days, and Draco avoided looking at him any longer, afraid to set him off even more. “You have approximately thirty-three more minutes. Finish what you can,” he threatened.

Gulping, Draco read through the parchment on his desk. Of course, it was an essay type question test. He dipped his quill in the ink and didn’t hesitate a moment longer. He began to write in a rush, barely thinking as the words filled the page. He was thankful to have at least known the material. But that should have come as no surprise to him, he was rather book smart. Locking himself in his room and studying for hours on end had its benefits. However, given that he was practically a half hour late, he wouldn’t have the time to go into detail in any of his responses. He’d have to skip right to the point, just to ensure he could complete the whole exam. 

“Time’s up!” He bellowed over the class, clapping his hands and all of the parchments on the desks flew into his waiting hands. Draco bit his lip. He hadn’t written a conclusion for that last question. Great. “Oh and Mr. Malfoy?” He asked, just as Draco was about to bolt from the classroom. He tensed, while the rest of the students filed out of the class. 

Turning to accept his doom, Draco looked him firmly in the eyes. “Yes, Professor?”

“Aurors always wear their proper uniform while on duty at the Ministry. I’d have the same expectations for my students as well,” he looked pointedly at Draco’s sweatpants and muddy trainers. 

Draco wasn’t stupid, he nodded simply. “Yes, professor. I apologize,” he responded. He gave himself the polite amount of time to linger there, then turned tail and ran. He walked briskly past the other classrooms, thankful it was so early. He really didn’t want another confrontation with anyone else while he was in this state. He hadn’t even got to finish his morning run either, he thought bitterly.

Perhaps, since he was already dressed, he could go visit the gym downstairs and finish what remained of his daily workout. He typically preferred running outside, avoiding people at all costs. But he figured it’d be early enough that maybe no one would be there. And that seemed to be the case, when he pushed open the door and stepped inside. He let out a breath of relief, pulling one leg up to stretch, followed by the next. Then he started to run the track surrounding the perimeter of the room. His mind wonderfully blank for once.

He didn’t know how long he ran, he just kept at it till his chest ached. When the feeling became overwhelming, he crouched low and started panting. His legs tingled, muscles clenching as he wiped the sweat from his brow. It was while he was leaned over, hands holding his thighs that he heard the door of the gym open. Draco lifted his head, and of course, who else would be walking in but Potter?

“Oh, um sorry,” Harry called sheepishly, having noticed Draco almost immediately. “I can, er, leave if you want me to...”

Draco simply shook his head, standing up tall and stretching his arms over his head. “No need, I’m about to leave.” He finished the rest of his post run stretches then gestured to the whole room, “It’s all yours.”

He heard Potter drop his gym bag, making a loud sound that echoed in the empty room. Draco tried not to look at him, and attempted to walk on past. But of course, it couldn’t be that simple.

“All mine?” Harry asked, his voice low. 

His voice accomplished the desired effect. Draco needed to leave now. “Yeah, sure,” he practically squeaked, starting to pick up the pace for the door, even though his legs screamed. 

He felt Potter’s hand grip his upper arm, pulling him around. Draco’s breath left him in a whoosh as he stumbled into the other man’s chest. Potter wrapped his arm firmly around Draco’s waist, keeping him there. He had no intention of letting go. “Malfoy,” he whispered, his breath ruffling Draco’s hair. “I know you love running, but you don’t need to run from me. I’m not going to hurt you...”

He nodded, biting his lip. Draco somehow knew all of this—had known this the whole time since coming here. The rest of his class looked at him in disgust, or in Weasley’s case, pure hatred. He didn’t want to believe Harry Potter would be different. He wanted to sort him with the rest of that lot—because it just made his life easier to believe that. What would that mean if Potter didn’t hate him? Didn’t want to hurt him? 

Since when had they moved away from hated rivals, to _this_? Whatever _this_ was. Was it after the war? After his trial? Or before? During the war? During their time at Hogwarts? Draco honestly couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment their rivalry faded but perhaps it was something that had grown over time. Slow, and barely noticeable at first. 

Draco had noticed it now. It was hard not to, with the way Potter was looking at him. Merlin, it was too much. He pushed him gently, stepping out of his arms and putting some space between them. This was all so confusing, and Draco couldn’t take much more of this. “Just...what do you want with me?” He asked in a rush, knowing if he didn’t ask this question right now, he might never get the courage to ask it again. 

Harry looked at him in shock, his whole body frozen in place. Draco’s irritation started to rise and he was so close to just turning around and walking out of there. But his need to know held him back. He wanted Potter to say it. Acknowledge that this thing between them wasn’t some made up fantasy.

Just when he was about done waiting, Potter mumbled out, “Er...well I thought we could be friends.” 

“Friends?” Draco laughed, a little too harshly. Potter blushed furiously, his eyes so intent on watching Draco seemed to falter. “You and I...we could never be friends,” Draco added, his voice neutral. He wasn’t sad about this idea, it was a truth he’d learned to accept over the years. It’d been a long time since he cried over Potter not being his friend, he wasn’t hurt by it anymore.

“Well, we could try,” Potter suggested as he now stared at his own trainers. His blush now reached the tips of his ears and at any other time Draco would have found it endearing. “I got Ron to back down, the twins seem to like you more now since our game in the snow. Even Dean and Seamus think you’re not so bad now...”

“Don’t listen to anything out of those two. They are horrible liars and I’m still absolutely atrocious,” Draco huffed, crossing his arms. Ok, so maybe he still hadn’t gotten over the fact that they took advantage of his drunken state and got him to admit that Potter was sweet. Ugh, gross. Draco didn’t think any such thing. 

“Right,” Harry smiled knowingly. “Well I guess if you don’t want to try being friends, we can try to go back to being stupid rivals. It’s kind of not the same without separate houses, different Quidditch teams, and threatening to get the other into detention though...”

“Well, we could try,” Draco repeated the words back to him. 

Harry laughed, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous, Draco.” He said, at last turning away from Draco to open up his gym bag on the floor.

“It’s Malfoy to you, Potter,” Draco shot back, watching as Harry pulled out a water bottle and one of those Muggle music players.

“Call me Harry,” he said in response, looking up at Draco. The bloody git winked. 


	9. Chapter 9

The Parkinson family held a Christmas tradition each and every year. They would host one of the most spectacular parties, where only the most exclusive and elite wizarding population were allowed to attend. Pansy had told Draco it was a party passed down from generation through generation, starting as far back as Perseus Parkinson when he served as Minister for Magic. And one of the more bizarre things about this party was despite your social standing within society, if you were a member of the Sacred Twenty-Eight, you were given a complimentary invitation regardless of your reputation. 

There were some families (like the Weasley’s) that always received their invitations and threw them in the trash shortly after. So, it came as a startling surprise when Mrs. Parkinson was greeting her guests at the entrance hall when she caught sight of vibrant long red hair. The young female Weasley bustled through the crowd, with the charming Blaise Zabini on her arm. Mrs. Parkinson recognized her immediately, having vaguely read about her controversial relationship with the Potter boy. Apparently, she left him to pursue a career in Quidditch and was training with the Harpies. 

The couple reached her at last, Mr. Zabini taking Mrs. Parkinson’s offered hand and kissing it gently. “Radiant as always, Mrs. Parkinson,” he greeted her, purely charismatic as only a Zabini could be. 

She smiled, “Please, you may call me Rose by now. I’ve known you since you were in nappies.” Her warm brown eyes traveled over to Miss Weasley. “I’m pleased to see a Weasley attend our annual Christmas party. I seem to recall the last time we’ve had a member of the Weasley family in attendance was over a century ago. It’s a pleasure to meet you, I’m Mrs. Rose Parkinson. You can find my husband, Cassius, attending to the guests in the banquet hall. My daughter Pansy, I believe you’ve met before. She should be downstairs any moment now.” 

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Parkinson. I’m Ginevra Weasley and the youngest and only daughter of Molly and Arthur Weasley,” she smiled warmly. “I must admit, attending this party is very unlike anything I’ve done before. However, Blaise seems to get me to think and do things I wouldn’t normally consider. Thank you for the invitation. It’s a beautiful party.” 

Rose watched them walk past her and continue on towards the banquet hall. They certainly made quite a striking pair, and most of their guests turned to get a good look at the couple. A murmur started to rise up throughout the crowd as they passed, Blaise basking in the extra attention; Ginny not phased at all. Perhaps, being involved with Potter and playing for an international team allowed her to cope with the attention. She carried herself well, confident in her strides along with Blaise. 

Draco was on his second glass of champagne, leaning against the grand piano of the hall. He was alone, because Pansy had decided to be a hag this evening. He told her she’d looked fine when she walked down the stairs an hour ago. She was not pleased and turned around and vanished up to her room once more. He didn’t understand why she was upset or why she needed to bother any longer on her appearance. Draco was her date after all. It was not like it was really a date—it's just something they’ve done for years to keep up appearances. 

He heard the murmur of the crowd rise, and spotted them a second later. His eyes widened in alarm, and before he could really process what he was looking at, Blaise caught his eyes and broke out into a beaming smile. He pulled Ginny along with him, and Draco tried to school his features. _Play nice_ , he thought helplessly. It wouldn’t do to make a scene here. 

“Hey Draco,” Blaise leaned in and kissed his cheek. One of Ginny’s eyebrows raised at the gesture, and Draco decided right then to not kiss his other cheek. Instead he performed some sort of half-hug and hated himself immediately after it happened. Blaise laughed it off, then looked at the empty spot next to him. “Pansy still not down here yet?” 

“No, she’s being a wench,” he scowled into his drink. 

“Right,” he smiled once more. Why was Blaise Zabini so fucking attractive? Draco tried to not stare too closely at his perfectly refined jawline, or those tempting lips. They’d briefly had a thing at Hogwarts, but it was purely physical. He had too many love interests, and Draco was a jealous person. It never would have worked out. 

“Well, I know you two have already met,” He broke the silence. “But, Draco, this woman right here has been resisting me every step of the way. It’s driving me around the twist. I wanted to take her here to show I’m serious about us. She seems to think she's just like any other girl I bring home—but this is different.” 

“Merlin, you _are_ serious,” Draco’s eyes widened, staring at them. He drank the remaining champagne in his flute and handed it off to a passing waiter. 

“Malfoy,” Ginny finally spoke, her eyes blazing. Draco gulped, fighting the urge to shrink against the piano. “I know you were a right arsehole to me and my friends in school. We’re adults now, and though that doesn’t excuse your behavior—Blaise values your friendship for some bizarre reason. I’ve also heard some interesting things from some of my own friends. So, I came here tonight to see if what I was hearing was all true, and well, to appease Blaise. If you want to keep playing the part of a prat, I’d be pleased to punch the other side of your mouth if you’d like.” 

Draco gaped at her; Blaise grinned widely. “Merlin, I love it when you threaten my friends.” He wrapped an arm around her and nodded at Draco. “We’re going to go find one of those famous flaming Christmas puddings. Do you want us to go get you a serving, Draco?” 

He waved them away, still at a loss for words. Pansy sauntered over a moment later, while he was still trying to recover from what had just happened. “Feisty, isn’t she?” She asked, sipping from a martini glass. Draco could see the appeal of turning to the harder liquor right now, the champagne wasn’t doing anything to settle his nerves. 

“Yes,” Draco agreed, looking away from the couple in question and trying to find the nearest waiter. 

“You think they’ve shagged?” she asks, pulling out her olive and taking a bite. 

“Knowing Blaise, of course,” he responds, nodding to a man across the room. He came over a minute later with a tray and Draco quickly swiped another flute of champagne regardless. 

“Not Blaise, I meant Potter.” 

Draco choked on his drink. Pansy smirked behind her glass. He quickly recovered, gulping the rest of it down. “And why would that matter if she’s shagging Blaise now?” 

“Because you’re shagging Potter now?” she asked, hopeful. He shook his head furiously, blushing. She groaned, “Really? After everything I said the other night? Why won’t you tell him?” 

“Pansy, there’s nothing to tell,” he lied, avoiding her gaze. 

“Hmmm...bullshit,” she said matter-of-factly. Her stare zeroed in on him, ruthless. Draco couldn’t ignore her if he tried. 

“Oh fine, I asked him what he wanted...” 

“Oh, you did?!” she squealed in delight. 

“...And he said he wanted to be friends,” Draco finished lamely. 

“Oh, what a fucking liar,” another voice cut in. Draco and Pansy quickly turned to see Ginny grinning at them. Blaise stood next to her, his spoon of pudding paused halfway up to his face. “Harry’s such a fucking liar. Merlin, he’s been hot for you since 6th year...” 

“Um...what?” Draco asked in disbelief. His ears still ringing. Surely, he misheard her. 

Blaise and Pansy wore matching smirks, then she lifted the rest of her glass. “Cheers to that,” she laughed, finishing the rest of her martini. Blaise finished his pudding instead. 

“He’d rather have followed you around than play Quidditch. Merlin, it was so pathetic. Then I thought after the war things would get better. That he’d finally be able to get over his fascination with you. But boy, was I wrong about that. ‘Ginny, do you think they’ll take my statement seriously? His mother saved my life. He saved my life. I don’t think he deserves prison, do you?’ Or every time he’d see your photo in the paper. ‘He looks so different, Ginny. Do you think he’s getting enough to eat? They haven’t taken all of his money, have they?’ I was so done with it, in all honesty. I’ve lost count how many times I told him to just fucking write you if he was so concerned.” 

“He never did write me,” frowned Draco. 

“Figures,” she muttered, scooping out the rest of her pudding. “This is pretty good, Parkinson. Mind if I get the recipe?” 

Pansy let out a small laugh and before she could get a word in about that, Draco interrupted. “Now, hold up. So, he’s obsessed with me. That doesn’t mean he wants to—um, take it any further. There’s no way Harry Potter is even remotely, er, queer. I’d seen all those photos of you two in the Prophet. Nothing even suggesting anything else...” 

“He’s bi,” she said simply, as if she was commenting on snow being cold and rain wet. “Apparently I tend to date in some sort of trend. Dean Thomas, raging bisexual. Harry Potter, the closeted bisexual. Then this sphinx over here that’s had half of London.” 

Blaise and Pansy burst out in raucous laughter at that. Clutching her stomach, and wiping her eyes, Pansy said once she’d recovered, “Oh honey, you’re a riot. We must do drinks sometime...” 

She smiled, tipping her glass in Pansy’s direction. “I’d like that, but unfortunately with my job I don’t know where I’m going half the time. But next time I’m in town and have a few moments to myself I’ll send you an owl.” She finished her wine, setting it on the surface of the piano. “But back to Harry, he’s interested. I can guarantee that.” 

“Why are you telling me all this?” Draco asked, his head starting to feel lightheaded. Perhaps the champagne was catching up with him after all. 

Ginny shrugged, the sparkly shawl around her shoulders slipping. “Harry’s my friend, I just want him to be happy.” 

“And he’s... _just_ your friend?” For some reason, he couldn’t stop the words from flying out of his mouth. But he was rather curious about all of it. What if they had an open relationship or something of the sort? 

“Is Blaise _just_ your friend?” she asked in response, eyebrow raising once more. 

Pansy smirked, looking back and forth between them. Blaise sputtered, which caused both Ginny and Draco to look at him suddenly. “Oh, for Merlin’s sakes,” Pansy cut in. “It was 5th year and they just shared a couple of blowies in the Prefects bathroom. Everyone in Slytherin knew about it.” 

“Pansy!” Draco wailed. Blaise was no help either, and he started giggling hysterically. 

“Right,” Ginny grinned knowingly, looking between both men. “Well, that makes me feel a little bit better about all of this then. Just didn’t want to get too involved with this one if he was just going to leave me for his friend. Been there, done that. Not bitter about the Dean thing not working out, just don’t want to get too invested if you know what I mean.” 

“Oh, darling, you have absolutely nothing to worry about. They are so wrong for each other, it’s hilarious really...” 

“Gee thanks Pans.” 

“I mean, she’s not wrong Draco...” Blaise cut in. 

“Ugh, shut up Blaise.” 

“Right, well now that is all out of the way, how about we go sit down for some more of that smashing pudding? We can even go over a plan to get Malfoy into Harry’s pants,” Ginny smirked. 

“That sounds like a fantastic idea,” Blaise agreed, pulling her closer to him as they turned to the nearest corner table. 

“About time, really,” Pansy followed along, pulling Draco with her. 

“Are you sure you didn’t sort Slytherin?” Draco asked Ginny, having no choice but to follow behind them. 


	10. Chapter 10

The plan was not going to work. 

There’d be no way it could possibly work. 

Besides, Draco wouldn’t follow through with it anyway. He doubted he could keep a straight face halfway through the implementation of said plan, regardless. Because the plan was none other than for Draco to sit and wait for Harry to come knocking on his door. Then when he’d walk in, he’d find Draco completely naked. Apparently just seeing Draco in the buff would urge Harry to take him right then and there. 

But Draco laughed and indulged his friends during the party. Now in the light of the next day, he realized just how stupid it all was. Potter didn’t like spontaneous nudity. He liked—well, Draco had no idea, but he was pretty sure it wasn’t that. 

  


He stared sadly out his bedroom window, admiring the ice crystals accumulating upon the glass. A few moments later, he pulled his wand out and pointed it at the icicles. Swishing his wand in a swirling pattern, he watched in fascination as the ice formed intricate shapes. If he squinted just the right way, he could make out a spider, or maybe a hummingbird. It reminded him of his childhood, looking at the abstract shapes of the clouds within the sky. 

A knock at his door pulled him from his thoughts, and Draco’s stomach lurched nervously. He shook his head, trying to convince himself not to worry. He hadn’t sent the note to Potter, he hadn’t stripped, and he most certainly wasn’t going to go through with _the plan._

“Hey, Draco, you in there?” He recognized the voice as Dean Thomas. Draco quirked his brow in confusion, before he pulled the door open. 

“Yes?” he asked, eyeing him carefully. 

“I was wondering if you were free tonight?” He asked, chewing on his plump lips nervously. Draco would not let his eyes look there. 

“What?” Draco responded. This couldn’t be happening. What the hell was Thomas playing at? 

Dean smiled nervously, his eyes warm. “Well ok, this is rather embarrassing. But Seamus and I could use your help...” 

“No!” Draco quickly cut in, his hand already reaching for his door again. 

Dean leaned over, his hand pressing over Draco’s and halting him from shutting the door in his face. “Jeez, calm down. It’s not like that at all,” he laughed, some of his black tendrils of hair falling into his face. “We meant what we said about the no threesome thing. Even though it might be kind of hot, I can’t imagine you touching my boyfriend like that. He’s mine, got it?” 

He pulled his hand out from under Dean’s roughly, then crossed his arms across his chest. Draco glared. “What do you want, Thomas?” 

“It’s _Dean_ ,” he cut in, cheekily. 

“What do you want, DEAN?” He practically shouted. 

Dean preened. Draco rolled his eyes in irritation, waving for him to continue. “Well, ok. We’re struggling with our potions research assignment. You’re easily the best at potions. Will you help us tonight?” 

Sighing, Draco said, “And what’s in it for me?” 

“Hmm,” Dean thought carefully, rubbing the stubble on his chin. “We’ll set you up with Harry?” 

Draco snorted, shaking his head. “Try again, I’ve already got Ginny Weasley on that case...” 

He laughed, leaning against the door frame. “Really? That little vixen!” Draco rolled his eyes and Dean hummed thoughtfully, trying to come up with something else. “Well, how is that working out for you then? You think she’ll manage?” 

He shrugged. He knew _the plan_ wasn’t going to be successful, because Draco wasn’t going to go through with it. But he did secretly hope perhaps she’d talk him up the next time Potter was with her. “Not really sure, honestly. Little early to tell.” 

“Mate,” he sighed. “Let us help you, please.” Draco blinked in surprise. It’d been so long since anyone had called him _mate_. Even his friends (really, just Pansy or Blaise at this point) preferred to call him darling or honey or love. It was kind of nice, being a _mate_. He certainly didn’t expect to be anyone’s mate after the war. It was unexpected. 

“Yeah, all right,” Draco agreed, lips quirking. 

Dean grinned, reaching around him and giving that same half hug that Draco attempted to give Blaise the other night. Dean’s hug wasn’t awkward in the slightest though, it was simply warm and friendly. Draco tried to keep the shock from showing upon his face. 

  


“So, you’re saying, none of these potions are illegal substances?” Seamus asked in disbelief, flipping through several sheets of parchment. The three of them had various books, quills and scrolls spread out all over the kitchen table. 

Draco smiled, nodding. “Yep.” 

“And I’ve wasted all my time analyzing on something that wasn’t even illegal, basically?” He asked, helplessly. Dean made to get up and walk around the table, but was forced back into his seat by a swift yank from Draco. 

“Sit down, Dean! You can console him later. Last time I let you get around the table you two made out for 5 minutes straight. We have to focus, guys...” 

Dean groaned, rubbing at his temples. “We’ve been at this for over two hours. I’m fucking tired...” 

“You’re not even halfway done with your report! Do you want to be an Auror or not?” Draco huffed, irritation rising. 

“I don’t know anymore!” He wailed, fingers digging into his beautiful black locks. Seamus watched him from across the table forlornly. “Let me make us some coffee or tea or something. I’m going to pass out soon otherwise...” 

“Yeah, all right,” conceded Draco. 

Dean fiddled with the kettle, while Draco continued to guide Seamus on what to do next. He was busy pointing something out in his textbook, that he completely missed the silent exchange from Dean and Seamus. They each nodded, Dean pointing at the mugs in the cabinet with raised eyebrows. Seamus was about to respond, when Draco looked at him critically. “Are you even listening to me?” 

Seamus smiled shyly, “Um, can you explain that bit again?” 

Draco glared daggers at him. But before he could tell him off, Dean placed the mug with snitches in front of Seamus. “Here you go babe.” Then in the next moment, another mug was set in front of Draco. It wasn’t his typical plain white mug. 

“What the fuck is that?” he asked, staring in horror at the thing. 

Both men laughed hysterically. Draco flushed, the letters on the mug assaulting him. In bold, black letters the mug read **Future Mrs. Harry Potter.** Before Draco could even open his mouth to argue, Dean grinned, “Do you like it? We saw it the other day in Diagon. Call it an early Christmas present if you want.” Then they both continued to giggle. 

“Fuck you guys,” Draco groaned, covering his face as he felt it heat up. 

“Nah, we’ve been through this Draco—” 

Just then the door burst open and Weasley and Potter walked in and immediately the room was silent. Draco hastily turned his mug around. “Oi, what‘s all this?” Weasley asked, taking in the scene of the three of them drinking coffee around the kitchen table, surrounded by homework. Draco instantly tensed, getting ready to bolt at a moment's notice. 

“Just a late-night study session,” shrugged Dean, taking a swig of his own coffee. The prick was using his plain mug. 

“What’s _he_ doing here?” Weasley asked, his sharp gaze focusing on Draco. 

“Ron,” Harry growled in a warning. 

Dean stood up from the table, blocking Draco from Ron’s line of sight. Dean was easily the tallest guy in their dorm, and he looked down his nose at Ron. “He’s our friend. Got a problem with that?” His voice carried weight and Draco was silently impressed. “He’s here because he fucking lives here. He can be in his room, he can be in our room, he can be out here. If you’ve got an issue with that you can just bugger the fuck off right now.” 

Ron Weasley looked right pissed off. His face was practically purple, and his nostrils were flared. But the way Dean looked down on him, eyes burning and fists clenched there was no other option. Potter pulled him by the sleeve and walked him to their room. “Ron, it’s ok,” he said, trying to diffuse the situation before they disappeared inside. 

“Wow,” Seamus said once the coast was clear. Draco let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Dean sat back in his seat, pulling his coffee to his lips. “Love...” Seamus started, and Dean looked up and held his gaze. “Love, that was the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen...” 

Draco coughed behind his mug, neither of them noticing. Dean’s grin lit up his whole face. “Oh _really_? Hotter than 6th year when I made those goals for Gryffindor?” 

“Oh yeah, much hotter than that,” Seamus smiled, cheeks blushing and eyes burning. 

Dean immediately stood up from the table, his eyes never leaving Seamus. “Draco, sorry mate, we’re going to have to call it a night.” He waved his wand at their table, scrolls and books flying into a neat pile and zooming into their bedroom across the way. He closed the distance between them, yanking Seamus up by the shirt collar. “Let’s go, I can’t wait another second...” 

“Bye Draco!” Seamus called cheekily before they slammed their bedroom door shut. 

Draco shook his head, picking up the mugs and bringing them over to the sink. He washed them by hand, his fingers trailing along the word _Potter_ in the soapy water _._ Perhaps someday he’d find someone that’d look at him the same way those two looked at each other. 


	11. Chapter 11

Word had travelled fast about the confrontation from last night. It was the next morning when Draco was slipping on his jacket and practically out the door when he was stopped by Padma Patil. “We heard what happened, Draco,” she started. 

“Yeah, well...it’s nothing,” he tried to shrug it off. He didn’t want to think any more about it, honestly. If he just kept his head down and avoided any more confrontation, he could make it out of this program alive. Ronald Weasley’s opinion of him was much like the rest of the general wizarding public. It was nice that he could change the minds of a few Gryffindors, but he would never hold his breath on seeing eye to eye with Ron. 

“I just wanted to let you know, we agree with Dean and Seamus. You shouldn’t have to hide in your room any more than the rest of us.” She paused, her gaze turning thoughtful as she took in his appearance. Draco was dressed in his typical running gear, his hair not even brushed. He didn’t bother with putting himself together properly till after his run. His hair would get frizzy mingled with the sweat and wind from outside. There was no point to it, really. But now with Padma looking at him full of concern, perhaps he should have tried at least a little bit. “I don’t think Parvati or I have even seen you eat anything here. Are you taking your meals to your room?” 

Sighing, he ran his fingers through a few stray strands of hair that fell to the front of his face. “It’s fine, honestly,” he tried to shrug it off. “My schedule is different from each of you. I have eaten out here just as much as my room,” he lied, looking to the right of her. He could see her frown out of the corner of his eye. 

“Well, you don’t need to do that anymore. My sister and I wanted to let you know, we won’t think anything of it if you’re out here. If you’re willing to put the past behind you and change this much to become an Auror, I’m willing to take my own judgements of you and put them in the past.” She gave him a small smile, which caused Draco’s eyes to widen in alarm. “Besides, you’re not too terrible looking. It’d be nice to see you more often than a glimpse now and then in the mornings before class...” 

“Um, thanks,” he responded, nervously. Parvati chose that moment to waltz out of their room and join them in the common area. 

She pushed her way in between them, shoving her sister firmly into the kitchen. “Stop flirting with him, Padma! He’s not interested!” 

“I wasn’t flirting!” she screeched back. Draco couldn’t find a better moment than now. He quickly left for his run while they were too distracted arguing with each other. 

His run was therapeutic and allowed him the needed time to think about all that was happening within his dorm. He’d somehow stumbled into an unlikely friendship with Dean and Seamus—and now the twins were even being agreeable. He had no idea how the dynamic of the dorm could change so much in such a short time. It was unexpected, and Draco pondered if it was something in the water. Why else would everyone suddenly be so _nice_ to him? He was Draco Malfoy after all. 

But as Draco paused to admire a Christmas display at a small toy store, he wondered. Perhaps there wasn’t something in the water—but rather in the air. It was Christmastime after all. Maybe his fellow dormmates were feeling the holiday spirit. Maybe they wanted to put the past behind them, simply because it was something too painful to think about right now. Christmas was about being happy and loved. It had been such a long time for Draco to have felt either of those feelings. Maybe the same could be said for the rest of the dorm. 

When he returned to the dorm, the sisters were gone. Draco could tell they must have left for class in a hurry because they still have a few spare scroll and quills upon the table and dishes in the sink from breakfast. Draco did the courteous thing and waved his wand at the mess and cleaned it up as he made his way back to his room. It was when he was sitting on his bed and pulling off his trainers that he noticed it. 

There was a card propped on his desk in the corner. He went over and picked it up. On the front cover was a photograph of the front door of a restaurant, snow charmed to magically swirl throughout. He found the sharp contrast of the stained wood paneling and the pure white snow to be absolutely beautiful. It looked like a place Draco would love to see one day, a restaurant he might possibly go to in the near future. Smiling, he opened the card to read: 

_It’s tradition to send Christmas cards to the people you care about. I’ve sent one to each of my friends. Whether you agree or not to be my friend, I’ve come to consider you one regardless. This restaurant looks like some fancy posh place you’d want to go to, so it made_ _me_ _think of you. Perhaps someday we’ll find out where this place is and go together. Would you like that?_

_Happy Christmas,_

_Harry_

He stared at the card for what felt like ages. His eyes reading the words over and over again. There was no way this was actually happening. But when Draco tried to pinch himself, he realized he was really awake and not dreaming. The card in his hands was real, and of course the horrible script was Potter’s. Draco memorized the look of his awful handwriting back in 3rd year. There was no other person that wrote like him, as far as Draco knew. 

Still, he had to make sure. “ _F_ _inite_ _incantatem_ ,” he whispered, waving his wand over the card. He was careful to focus his magic solely on the handwriting and not on the cover. He didn’t want to vanish the snow charm on accident. Either way, his spell had no effect. So, it seemed this actually was a card from Harry Potter. Potter, who not only thought they were friends and Draco deserving of such a gift—but also hinting at possibly going to this place together. Merlin, _what the hell did that mean_? 

That night he used the dorm Floo and went over to Pansy’s for drinks. He held the card close to him as he whirled into her flat, and when he stumbled on the other side, she noticed it immediately. “Darling, what is that you’re holding?” 

Draco walked over to her. She was sitting on an antique settee with a book propped open in her lap. Draco tried to glance at the pages but she hastily shut it and threw a pillow over the cover. He raised an eyebrow at that but before he could inquire any further, she’d pulled the card out of his hands. Draco waited patiently for her to finish reading it. 

“Oh, Draco,” she smirked. She stood up and embraced him for a moment before leaning in to kiss his cheek. “He’s smitten, darling. Absolutely smitten.” 

“What?” He asked, dumbfounded. “How in Merlin’s beard do you see that? He wrote that he sends cards to all his friends.” 

“He wants to go to a restaurant with you,” she continued on, her smile widening. 

“So? Lots of friends want to go eat together. We’ve been going out to eat for weeks now. It doesn't mean anything like that. Potter’s just trying to be friendly, I think.” 

Humming thoughtfully, she walked over to the mini bar in the corner. Summoning each of them a glass, she began to pour the wine. “Well honestly, I think you should take him up on the offer. Ask him out. Show him just how friendly you could be,” she winked. 

“You’re insatiable.” 

“And you’re oblivious, and frankly just a little pathetic. The war’s over, honey. It is possible for people to forgive and move on. Seems to me Harry Potter is all for that idea.” She took a larger pull of her drink, while Draco simply waved his own around in his glass. 

“You really think I’m pathetic?” he asked, frowning. He watched his wine swivel around. 

“In a way,” she said simply, closing the distance between them by wrapping her arms around his waist. “You just need to let it go. Stop punishing yourself for what you did while we were kids. We can’t go back and change the way things happened—but we can go forward. I’m proud of what you’ve done so far, even knowing you have had little choice. You’ll make a fine Auror someday.” 

He took a shuddering breath, her words affecting him more than he’d like to admit. Sipping at his wine, he finally was able to say, “Yeah right. It’s just something Potter will be better at than me...” 

She snorted, pulling away from their hug and dragging him by the hand. “Please, how would he even be able to do his job with the whole world fawning at his feet? Any time he’d be out in the field, I can just see the general public catching a glimpse of him and blowing his cover. It’s not practical at all, honestly.” 

“Hmm, you might have a point there,” he agreed. He noticed she was taking him out of the drawing room and down the hall. 

Before he could ask, she answered, “I haven’t eaten dinner yet. Have a meal with me. I promise it won’t mean anything except dinner. I’m starving.” 

“Oh, all right,” he laughed. In Pansy’s dining room, over wine and prosciutto, they talked about another dinner. It was a plan that seemed more promising than the last. Draco was confident he could follow through with this one though. 


	12. Chapter 12

Getting Harry Potter alone was a task not taken lightly. Draco Malfoy had spent the first months of Auror training, mapping out everyone’s schedule for the sheer purpose of avoiding each and every dorm mate. He knew that the Patil sisters woke up about the same time as him, that they crammed any last-minute assignments and ate breakfast in that short hour before they ran off to class. Dean and Seamus woke up much later in the day, preferring to take lessons closer to noon. Harry Potter and Ron Weasley on the other hand had a varied schedule. Monday, Wednesday, and Fridays were their earlier days. They’d usually leave the dorms around 8 am. But on Tuesday and Thursday, Weasley would leave for class around 10 and Potter didn’t have another class till about noon that day. 

Draco really had only one hope of getting Potter alone and that was to wait till next Tuesday to get him alone. Sure, Dean and Seamus would still be locked up in their dorm and hadn’t left for class yet. But maybe if Draco could give them a warning beforehand, they wouldn’t walk in and interrupt them. Draco had to take this chance. 

He mentioned it over dinner on Monday night with Dean and Seamus. The three of them were working on another potions related assignment and they’d ordered takeout. Draco dug around in his box of rice with his chopsticks and asked nonchalantly, “Uh, do you guys have any plans for tomorrow morning?” 

Dean shrugged, “Not really. Probably just fooling around in our room. Why?” 

“I um...” He glanced around to make sure none of the others were near or could overhear them. Weasley and Potter hadn’t even returned to the dorm for the evening, but Draco was still somewhat cautious. “I was thinking of asking Potter out tomorrow morning. While Weasley is in class...” 

Seamus squealed excitedly, “Oh you so should, Draco!” 

“Right, well,” Draco looked pointedly at Dean. “I’ll need some alone time with him. Do you think you can manage to not walk in on us this time around?” 

“You going to ask him out here?” Dean asked, slurping up the rest of his lo mein. 

“Well I wasn’t going to just barge into his room! I was hoping to catch him out here,” Draco frowned, considering. What if Potter didn’t even come out of his room till he was leaving? Draco might have to actually knock on his room, and his stomach lurched at that idea. The last time he was in that room—ugh, Draco wanted to think about it, but he also didn’t. 

“Mate, you’re over thinking this.” Dean binned the containers for his dinner and leaned over Seamus and swiped some stray rice from his lip. “Just knock on his door tomorrow after Ron’s left. You have nothing to worry about. He’s going to say yes.” 

“Ugh, this feels just like fourth year all over again, except entirely worse because I’m actually going to ask him this time...” Draco’s eyes widened in shock as soon as the words left his mouth and he paled. Seamus dropped his cup in shock, thankfully Dean was right there to grab it before it spilled all over. Draco let out a small manic laugh, cursing himself silently as he felt his whole face burn. 

“Fourth year?” Seamus whispered, his own eyes the size of saucers. “Merlin, Draco! You _have_ to tell him!” 

“I didn’t even know what it was at the time,” Draco tried to shrug it off. “I spent a lot of time that year watching him and wondering. Making Potter stinks badges. I guess I just wanted him to _notice_. Fuck, forget I said all this ok?” He asked, sliding his head to the table and covering his face. 

“I think it’s sweet,” Dean smiled ruefully. 

“Ugh, piss off,” Draco groaned. 

“Well, we’ll be sure to stay in our room till the coast is clear. Won’t we, love?” Seamus looked sharply at Dean. 

“Yeah, I wouldn’t dream on cutting in on those two again. Don’t have to worry about us, mate,” he winked at Draco. 

You would think knowing he’d not be interrupted with Potter tomorrow would make Draco feel considerably better. It did absolutely nothing to calm his racing heart. 

This was an absolute disaster. Draco had nothing to wear. He’d gone through his entire wardrobe and rejected it all. He needed to look good, obviously, but not good enough to look like he’d been trying. Draco didn’t think he had such a balance in his clothes. On the one end there were the sweat pants and other various gym clothes, on the other spectrum it was fancy dress robes and Muggle suits Pansy had gifted him. “Fuck,” he groaned in frustration. It seemed the only thing that looked even somewhat casual was his actual training uniform. 

But perhaps that’d work, in all actuality. If Draco looked like he was just getting ready for his next lesson, Harry wouldn’t think anything of it. With his mind made up, he pulled on his uniform and spelled his hair to the side like he’d chosen to wearing lately. He inhaled deeply when he heard Ron leaving rather loudly and knew now was the time. 

He slunk out of his bedroom, darting his face around the corner to make sure Weasley had truly left. It seemed to be the case and he breathed deeply, willing his heart rate to calm. Palms sweating, he rubbed them upon his pants nervously before he made his way to Potter’s door. He knocked once, twice, was about to do it a third time when Harry yanked the door open. 

“Oh, hey,” Potter grinned. Harry Potter’s whole face lit up from that smile alone and it left Draco breathless. He had no right to look that good at 10 in the morning wearing some ratty flannel pajama bottoms and a tank, messy hair even more so given it looked like he’d only just woken up. Fuck, Draco was doomed. 

“Hi,” he coughed, clearing his throat. He could already feel the flush rising from the back of his neck. But he went ahead and carried on with his plan. He had a script to stick to. “I, um, received your Christmas card.” 

“Did you like it?” He continued with that same troublesome smile, having no idea the effect he had on Draco. 

“Yes,” Draco agreed. “It was rather unexpected though. Did you...” He paused, considering how best to ask what he wanted next. “Did you mean what you wrote? About going there together someday?” 

“Well, yeah,” Harry’s grin faltered and he lifted a hand to rub awkwardly at the back of his neck. “If you want to that is. If you want to still be enemies or rivals or whatever, I guess you can just forget the whole thing...” He continued to ramble, his eyes leaving Draco’s to look at the floor. “I mean, I am a little upset because you seem to be getting on with Dean and Seamus ok. Even Padma seems to really like you. But I guess I could understand if you didn’t want to be my friend or whatever...” 

“Potter,” Draco started. Those green eyes lifted to meet his once more, and Draco knew now was the time. “Go to dinner with me. Please.” 

His grin slowly returned, paired off with a pleasant pinking to his cheeks. Potter looked good with that blush and Draco realized he wanted to see it happen more and more. When he finally spoke next, he asked, “As friends?” 

“No,” Draco responded, his voice firm. As much as he wanted to be Potter’s friend (and who was he kidding, that was something he _always_ wanted), he wanted to make sure there was no confusion as to his intentions. 

“As rivals?” Harry asked, a frown on his face. He looked rather confused. 

“No.” Draco bit his lip, his mind whirling. Now or never. “As my date,” He answered confidently, while inside he was screaming. He felt his existing blush rise to the tips of his ears. But even despite that, he wouldn’t back down without an answer. 

Harry’s blush deepened, his mouth agape. He stood shock still for what seemed like hours. _Fuck_ , Draco began to panic. His thoughts tumbling around and perhaps he read this situation completely wrong. Perhaps he’d just pissed him off, maybe he’d punch him in the face next for even thinking such a thing. But before Draco’s mind could go completely off the deep end, Harry’s voice broke through. “Yeah,” he gulped, biting his lips as if he was keeping his smile down for once. “I’d like that.” 

“Really?” Draco asked in surprise. One second he felt like falling, the next flying. 

“Yeah,” Harry’s inevitable grin broke out upon his face. 

“Oh, ok.” Draco licked his lips nervously. “I’ll, um, owl you a time and place. That sound good?” 

“Perfect.” His smile was truly infectious and Draco could feel the corners of his mouth turning upwards as well. Then Harry was turning an even deeper shade, and before Draco could ponder much about that Harry waved him goodbye and hastily shut his bedroom door. 

Draco took a deep calming breath, then went over to collapse on the couch in front of the Christmas tree. He felt fucking great, ecstatic. He couldn’t remember a time he’d ever felt this truly happy. It was overwhelming actually. Almost as if he could do anything—and then he felt it. His magic pulsed from within and left him in a rush. _Pop_ _pop_ _pop_. Draco’s head darted to the Christmas tree, and all of the lights lit up brilliantly. Bright red ornaments appeared out of nowhere, a strand of matching garland draped itself over the mantelpiece, and a wreath settled above the fireplace. 

He waited, taking even deeper breaths to calm his heart. But even when he had settled down, he was strangely pleased to see the wild magic had stayed. The ornaments and lights twinkled on. 


	13. Chapter 13

The smell from the kitchen was heavenly. Draco’s mouth watered as he waited by the fireplace, the aroma from the oven enticing him. Dean and Seamus were _baking_ for Merlin’s sake, and he had held off this long when they started on cupcakes, lemon bars, and cheesecake. But now there were cookies involved and his resolve was slowly fading. 

Before he could consider walking over to them, the Floo flared. Oh yes, Pansy. The whole reason Draco had been sitting in front of the fireplace in the first place. He needed her help desperately for his upcoming date with Harry. She had cleared her schedule for the following evening and now here she was, getting caught in the garland draped over the fire. She batted it away, the greenery pulling her hair into a tangle. Huffing, she managed to disentangle herself. “Merlin, Draco. What the hell is all this?” she asked in irritation before she joined him on the couch. 

“Oh, um, there’s a story to all that.” He laughed nervously, then reached over and pulled out a stray twig of holly from her bob. 

She raised her eyebrow, waiting. Dean, the nosy bint, cut in. “Yeah, Draco sprouted Christmas ornaments.” 

Her eyebrow raised even higher, practically vanishing up into her fringe of bangs. Draco shook his head, coloring. “It’s nothing really. Just some accidental magic. I think I was just really happy that he said yes.” 

“We told you he would,” Seamus sung cheekily. Draco looked over to see him pull out a sheet of cookies. Sugar, butter, vanilla, ginger smells wafted over to him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply. Maybe one cookie wouldn’t hurt, surely? 

When Draco opened his eyes, Pansy had already left him on the couch and had joined the boys in the kitchen. She was reaching for a lemon bar. “Pansy!” he wailed. 

“Oh bugger off, Draco. These smell too amazing,” then she took a ginger bite into her lemon square and moaned softly. “Guys, I need your recipe,” she whispered after she’d devoured half of it. 

Marching over to her, he gave in and grabbed the plate of cookies. He looked down to see they were festively decorated with the words HO HO HO. He shrugged, picking one up and put the corner of it in his mouth. Instantly the flavors melted on his tongue and he wanted more. He finished that first cookie rather quickly and was reaching for another when Dean told them, “We’re baking for some Christmas tins we’ll be putting together. Each of you will get a sampler for Christmas. I know it’s not the same as a fancy new book or quill, but we wanted to make our presents this year.” 

Draco flushed, licking his fingers clean from the cookie crumbs. “So, I’m going to get one?” 

Seamus sighed, walking over to him and giving him a small hug. “Of course. You’re our friend now. Pansy can have one too, since she’s a friend of yours. Plus, well, we heard about you and Neville.” He winked over at her and Draco frowned. 

How could he have forgotten about her and Longbottom? He guessed that he'd been too focused on his own problems with Potter, he’d neglected to ask about what was going on with her. He felt like a right twat. But before he could dwell too much on that, she reached for his hand and started to pull him towards his room. “Oh, don’t put on that face, dear. I’ll tell you all about it in good time. It’s still very new and we’re not entirely sure what we are looking for right now.” 

“Still,” he started as he opened the door to his room. “I should have asked. I’ve been so busy with Potter, I’ve forgotten.” 

“It’s ok,” she smiled softly. He led her to his disaster of a wardrobe silently. This was the main reason for her visit, after all. Draco had great taste, but Pansy’s was even better. Draco knew high wizard fashion—Pansy knew _all_ fashion. And she’d certainly know what to wear for a date with Potter. 

“Hmmm,” she quirked her lips, rifling through the clothes. She was quick, yet efficient. She’d pushed practically all the clothes off to the side and was considering some designer dress robes, a Muggle suit (that Draco, of course, was not familiar with the designer on that one but according to Pansy it was really nice), and a cashmere jumper. Her hand paused on the jumper, stroking the fibers. “Where are you going on your date? The location may help me decide better...” 

“I’m still not entirely sure. I was considering the Dragon’s Tail but...” 

Pansy lifted her hand, silencing him. “Don’t. Even though that place has great food and is certainly posh enough, don’t do it. Do you guys want to be mobbed by the Prophet on your way to dinner? You’ll have to take him somewhere Muggle, darling.” 

Frowning, he slumped onto his bed. “Yeah, I was afraid of that. But honestly Pansy, the only Muggle places that I’m familiar with are the ones you’ve taken me to. I’m not sure he’d want to go to some hole in the wall pub or a coffee shop.” 

“Darling, that’s _exactly_ the place Potter would want to go to.” 

His frown deepened. “But that’s not what he said in the card! He told me he’d want to take me to that fancy restaurant someday. I have to find something like on his Christmas card.” 

“You’re not the brightest spell in the book, are you?” She pulled out the jumper and placed it on the bed next to him. “He wants to take you somewhere fancy because he knows _you would like it_. Now Potter? Ignore the whole Savior of the World complex and you’ve got a simple man, Draco. He likes simple things. You’re going to take him to that ridiculous pub and you’re going to wear that.” 

“Just that?” he asked, flushing at the mere idea. 

She rolled her eyes dramatically. “No, we have to go shopping for the rest. I know being a wizard, there’s no need to own a single pair of jeans. But I think now is the time, come along now.” She pulled him up by the hand, determination in her eyes. 

“Jeans?” He asked, distressed. “I’m going on a date with Harry Potter and I’m going to be wearing _jeans_?” 

“Yes, exactly. You’re going to drive him absolutely mad,” she winked. Then they were back in the living room and passing through the Floo. Dean and Seamus waved at them excitedly as they vanished into thin air. 

He felt ridiculous. Here he was, the night of his date, staring at himself in front of his bedroom mirror. Pansy had nailed down every detail from the way he should style his hair to the socks and shoes he should wear. Now he hardly recognized himself and he felt horribly under dressed. He looked as if he was about to go to the store to pick up some groceries for the week, not go on a _date with Potter_. Merlin, he was so fucked. He wondered if he’d have enough time to style his hair or perhaps even fix his jeans so there weren’t bloody holes in them. Why Muggles bought jeans that looked dirty and falling apart was beyond Draco. 

But before he could ponder on what to do, his wand chimed to signal it was time. Draco took a large breath to calm his nerves. Fuck it, it was too late now. If this all blew up in his face, at least he had Pansy to blame for it all. He swallowed, his throat suddenly drying up at an alarming rate. With his heart pounding, he walked the small distance out of his room and knocked quietly on Harry’s door. “Just a minute,” he heard him call in response. Draco’s heart lurched, just hearing his voice. Merlin, they were really doing this, weren’t they? 

He wasn’t left waiting for long. Potter slowly opened his door and Draco barely refrained from gawking when he got a good look at him. Because what else would Harry be wearing but impeccable deep emerald dress robes, his hair smoothly styled and lying flat for once. Then add to the fact he was completely clean shaven, looking posh and elegant and so fucking handsome Draco was left speechless. 

“Wow,” Harry breathed out for both of them. His gaze was heated as he took in all of Draco, and his mouth fell open of its own accord. He couldn’t seem to keep his own gawking in check, and normally Draco would have found that highly amusing. But Harry Potter looked fancy and delectable and Draco was having a hard time thinking anything else. 

“Potter.... _Harry_ ,” he quickly corrected. His mind was still blank. 

“Fuck....” Harry responded and Draco could have sworn his eyes lingered to the hole on his thigh. He darted his eyes up, green eyes meeting grey. “I didn’t know...I thought...” 

“Harry...you look,” he paused, gulping. “You look amazing. I am the idiot that neglected to tell you where I was taking you. I felt under dressed to begin with, so if you’d like to wait, I can go change and we’ll go somewhere else.” He made to turn, a flush forming on his cheeks. 

“Wait,” Harry grabbed him by the sleeve and turned Draco back around. “No, don’t,” this time Harry was the one who had started to blush. “I really want to see where you were going to take me, dressed like this. Fuck, Draco you look...” 

“Like a slob?” he asked sadly, his eyes looking down at his trainers. At least he’d convinced Pansy to allow him to buy new shoes rather than using his running trainers. 

“No, Merlin,” then Harry’s face began to darken, as he took a shaky breath. Draco’s eyes lifted curiously. “You look...fuck, you look _hot_ ok?” Harry covered his face in his hands, clearly mortified. 

Draco’s face warmed, a small smile tugging at his lips. “Oh. I guess I can work with that.” 

“Yeah, so,” Harry paused, his blush travelling up his neck. “I’m going to get out of these stupid robes and put on something else. Where we going again?” 

Smiling, Draco replied, “Oh just some hole in the wall place in the Muggle part of town. I can’t even remember the name of the place, but they’ve got good drinks and chips.” 

Harry responded with a matching grin. “Sounds perfect.” 


	14. Chapter 14

He couldn’t settle his nerves down for anything. One glance from Potter and Draco was an absolute wreck. He didn’t think he had stopped blushing from the moment he had knocked on Harry's door. Now they were walking close to each other—close enough to touch, actually, but Draco hadn’t the nerve to reach for his hand. He wasn’t entirely sure if the gesture would be welcome. 

At last they paused in front of the pub, Draco took a deep breath. “Right, here we are.” 

Harry smiled at him with that same smile that had been driving Draco mad for weeks, and then they made their way inside. A hostess greeted them promptly and seated them at a table near the back of the restaurant. Draco was secretly pleased to see the establishment had decorated for the holidays. Hanging on the wall next to their table were two golden bells, with holy and a red satin bow crowning the piece. Normally Draco would have found the decoration slightly garish, but with the subdued candle lighting it caused the glitter to sparkle. It was oddly charming. 

“This is nice, Draco,” Harry grinned, taking his seat across from him. “I had no idea you knew about places like this.” 

“Oh, I’m afraid that’s all Pansy’s doing.” He flipped open his menu and was glancing at the selections. “Not that I’m against this pub or any of the others we’ve been to recently. It’s just, without Pansy, I’d have probably just stayed locked up in my dorm for the remainder of term.” 

Harry frowned, his eyes on his own menu. “Please don’t think you have to do that anymore. So much has changed.” 

Before Draco could continue on that train of thought, their waiter came to get their orders in. Draco ordered the roast, Harry the fish and chips. They got a bottle of wine for the table as well, and Harry smiled charmingly as Draco questioned what bottles were available and finally settling on a Chardonnay. “It’d go well with your fish,” he explained to Harry. “I prefer champagne with fried foods, but maybe this will still be a nice balance for both our dishes.” 

Harry’s eyes twinkled across the table. "You’re so posh, Draco,” he said, warmly. It was clearly a compliment from his tone of voice. “I’m sure it’ll be lovely.” 

Draco flushed, suddenly taken aback by the praise. He was at a lost on what to say next and mumbled, “Forgive me, this is not something I normally do. I think the last time I went on a date was back in 5th year and it was a disaster.” 

“Sounds like my 5th year,” he laughed. “Was it with Pansy?” 

This time Draco laughed. “No, Merlin,” he shook his head, trying to dispel his laughter. Their wine arrived at that moment and Draco happily took a sip from his glass. He was pleasantly surprised by how it tasted and continued, “No, no. It was with Theodore.” 

“Theodore? As in Theodore Nott?” Harry asked, completely surprised. 

“Yes, well. He was easy on the eyes and a friend. Why not?” Draco frowned, suddenly feeling self-conscious. 

“It’s just...he’s a _guy_.” 

“I hate to break this to you Potter, but so are we.” He said teasingly. Harry rolled his eyes, taking his first sip of wine. 

“Obviously,” Harry agreed. Then he took a larger pull from his glass, clearly enjoying the selection Draco had chosen. After he’d swallowed, he allowed himself to ask, “Just...how long have you known you were interested in other men, Malfoy?” 

“Hmmm,” Draco swirled the wine around in his glass as he thought. “Honestly, I think I’ve always known. Obviously, it wasn’t really apparent till I was much older and started to develop feelings for other people. But when I started to see I certainly had a type, it all just sort of fell into place naturally.” 

“And what exactly is your type, Draco?” Harry asked, his voice an octave lower. He leaned slightly over the table, a lose tendril of black hair falling over his glasses. Draco resisted the urge to touch. 

Draco smirked over his wine glass. “Tall, dark, and handsome. And very _very_ male.” 

“Oh,” Harry pouted. It was really unfair that his lips could take on that shape and Draco’s breath stalled. “I’m not very tall,” he noted. 

“No, well,” Draco took another sip of wine, to get him to focus on something else besides Harry’s lips. “You could always wear heels,” he teased. 

“Would you like that?” Harry suggested, his gaze turning heated. Then of course, Draco’s mind supplied the images for him and he realized rather quickly that _yes,_ he would like that. Just the thought alone of Harry walking around in Pansy’s stilettos was causing his head to spin and heart to stall. 

Harry’s grin was turning downright feral at this point, the longer Draco took to respond to _that_. Instead of outright answering him, Draco attempted to redirect the conversation. “And just what exactly is your type Potter?” 

Humming thoughtfully, he tilted his head in consideration. After a few minutes passed and their meals were finally brought over, Harry answered, “I guess I have a thing for Quidditch players?” He took a bite of his fish and moaned softly. “No, not really. I think I’m more attracted to just certain people. And well,” he paused, frowning. “I’ve had to be really careful after the war. It seems like too many people are only interested in me because I saved everybody, and not well, interested in me for _me_. If that makes any sense.” 

He considered his next response carefully. Draco never really had to think much about _why_ he liked Potter as much as he did. It was just something that sort of just happened. Yes, he very much liked him for saving everyone (and particularly for Draco concerning the Room of Hidden Things). But that certainly wasn’t the only reason Draco liked Harry. There were countless reasons, but Draco figured it might be too early to express this. He didn’t want to scare the other man away. It was merely their first date, after all. 

Instead he settled for playing coy. “Yes well, don’t worry about me Potter. I’m only interested in your dashing looks. You practically killed me when you walked out wearing those dress robes, and it’s still taking quite a bit to recover from all that.” 

It seemed to be the right thing to say because Potter laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He licked the grease from his fingers and wiped them on a paper napkin. “Right, don’t get me started on what you are _still wearing_. Fuck, Draco. I didn’t even know you owned a pair of jeans—and certainly not ones that fit you like _that.”_

“They are a little tight,” he agreed, while finishing off his roast. _And about to get a little bit tighter if Potter won’t stop smiling like that_ , his brain added unhelpfully. “And you’re right. These jeans were a recent purchase, with the help of Pansy.” 

“Pansy’s a good friend,” Harry continued to smile—damn him. Draco was doomed, oh so very doomed. 

They had both finished their meals, the bottle just about empty as well. Harry stared at Draco across the table, warm and intense. Draco could feel his gaze raking over him, particularly lingering on his lips and neck. He couldn’t fight the flush that rose up his face even if he tried. Draco gulped the last bit of wine in his glass and it slipped clumsily out of his hands as he set it back down. “Want to get out of here?” he croaked, his stomach in knots. 

“Oh, yes,” Harry said, slightly out of breath. Then he sucked in his bottom lip and bit down. Draco lost his mind. 

It was as if he was on autopilot. Draco reached blindly into his wallet and pulled out plenty of that Muggle paper money and set it on the table. Then he stood up, Harry mirroring his actions. Draco didn’t hesitate, and as they were walking out of there, he put his hand on Harry’s back. Immediately Harry leaned into his touch, and Draco resisted the urge to grab the back of his shirt and pull him close. _Not here_ , Draco told himself, even though he very much wanted it to happen right here and now. 

They walked a few blocks, Draco’s hand practically burning a spot through Harry’s shirt. The longer it lingered, the sweatier it felt. Draco was just about to pull his hand away and rub it on his jeans when Harry turned to him, his eyes blazing. He grabbed Draco by the front of his jumper and led him backwards into a dark alley. Draco felt his back pressed against the brick wall and his breath left him in a rush. 

“Draco Malfoy, you are driving me absolutely mad. Do you know that?” Draco nodded in response, his voice no longer cooperating. “I’ve been thinking about this for too long. If I don’t kiss you in the next minute, I’m going to lose my fucking mind, I swear.” He pulled Draco close, his green eyes lighting Draco’s whole soul on fire. “Can I....please...” 

“ _Fuck Potter_ ,” Draco groaned. “Holy Merlin just fucking do it!” 

Instantly, Harry’s lips crashed on Draco’s and their world was spinning. 

Draco had imagined their first kiss would be slow, hesitant, sweet even. It was anything but that. Harry kissed Draco like he was a man starved, lips and tongue bordering on brutal. He plunged his tongue deep inside, and Draco answered that with a loud moan and parted his lips further. Harry’s grip on his jumper tightened, and he’d brought his other hand up to tangle in Draco’s hair and around the back of his head. He was pulling him in even closer, and Draco was so thankful for the wall at his back. He didn’t think he could stand very well with this attack of Harry’s lips on his. 

But then, gradually Harry started to pull away. His grip loosened, his tongue slipping out to gently caress Draco’s lips. His hand in Draco’s hair came around to cup Draco’s cheek, the pad of his thumb sliding softly along the skin there. He let out a shaky breath, and Draco felt it linger upon his lips. “Sorry...that was...” 

Draco shushed him with a finger to his lips. Harry blinked in surprise. When Draco finally felt like he got his voice under control he said, “Don’t apologize, Harry. I liked it. Very much,” he coughed, blushing even darker. “I’d even suggest we go again, but I’m not sure I would be able to stop...” 

“Right,” Harry whispered, the movement of his lips was felt under Draco’s finger that was still resting there. Draco watched, transfixed as his finger moved along the line of Potter’s bottom lip. Harry’s Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed thickly. “You’re probably right...we should stop. Before it gets to be too much...” 

Draco answered with a small smile. Then he leaned in and carefully left a chaste kiss. Harry’s whole face flushed at the touch. “Let‘s go home, Harry.” Grinning, Harry pulled Draco into his arms in a firm embrace. Then they both felt the pull of apparition take them away. 


	15. Chapter 15

It was as if he was floating—flying with the clouds. Days later the feeling remained, and he wasn’t sure if he’d land on the ground anytime soon. He absentmindedly fell into his daily routines, but his mind was back in that alleyway with Potter’s lips against his. He wanted that again, and he kept wondering when will be the next time they’d see each other. 

“What’s wrong with Draco?” Padma frowned over her morning cup of coffee. 

This was a rare occurrence in that not only were the twins awake, but so were Dean and Seamus. The boys had some sort of end of term test they were preparing for, and Draco was supposed to be helping them study. Draco’s involvement consisted of staring blankly at the Christmas tree across the room, while he twirled a spoon in his tea. He was smiling. He’d been smiling for days. 

“Oh, nothing. He’s just in la la land ever since he came back from his date with Harry,” Seamus shrugged, pointing at something in their textbook. Dean leaned over to get a closer look and wrote a note down on his parchment. 

“Harry?! Since when are he and Harry a thing?” Parvati screeched. Draco winced for a second, merely reacting to her shrill tone, but then the smile returned. His eyes never leaving the flames from the fireplace. 

“They’ve been a thing for years and if you haven’t noticed you just haven’t been paying attention all too well,” Dean smirked. He dipped his quill in the inkwell while both girls gaped at him in astonishment. “But well, their first date was a couple nights ago. I’d say it went really well.” 

“Ugh,” Padma groaned, covering her face in her hands. “I had no idea about Harry. He hadn’t been with any men before—at least that I know of. And Draco? Wasn’t he with Pansy? We could have sworn we heard her coming in here not too long ago and disappearing in his room with him.” 

Draco laughed, shaking his head. But he failed to comment on that—his mind still so very lost. Thankfully Dean was there to clear things up. “Pansy’s just a friend. And Harry’s an incredibly private person. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’d been with a guy before. Not that it matters much anyway. The heart wants what the heart wants,” he smiled warmly at Seamus. Seamus blew him a kiss. 

“Figures,” Parvati mumbled, finishing the rest of her coffee. “Of course, the hottest boys in our year would hook up with each other. Is anyone straight anymore?” 

“Hmm, I think Ron and Hermione are still straight as far as I know,” Seamus sniggered, his head bent down and buried back in their book. 

Parvati leaned in, and began to whisper, “Yeah and what is even up with that? Have you noticed Harry and Ron are hardly ever here? They get in rather late on the nights they do stay here. I think they are staying somewhere else for half the week. I’d bet they are at Granger’s.” 

Dean opened his mouth to respond to that, but shut it promptly when Ron and Harry’s door burst open. Both men stumbled into the kitchen, and their eyes widened in alarm at seeing everyone else joined in around the small table. Draco’s eyes finally darted away from the fireplace and zeroed in on Harry. He was dressed in his typical fitness clothes—some loose-fitting joggers, worn trainers and a t-shirt. Draco flushed, thinking he looked amazing. 

“Wow, what’s all this?” Ron asked, walking over to the cabinets. He pulled out a plastic cup with a lid and proceeded to fill it to the brim with coffee. 

“Just studying,” Dean answered, while he sat up straighter in his seat. He’d been sitting in between Seamus and Draco, and he started to drape his arm across both their seats. 

“Right,” Ron smiled awkwardly, looking at each of them. “Well, this has been fun. I have to head out. Harry you coming along?” He nodded to Harry, making his way to the fireplace. He pinched some Floo and threw it in, the flames turning emerald. 

“Er, you go on ahead mate. I’m going to stay back,” he said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. Ron simply shrugged in response and shouted _Grimmauld_ _Place_ and disappeared a second later. 

It wasn’t till the flames had died back to their original color before the room erupted into noise once more. 

“Have you told him, Harry?” 

“Is it true?” 

“I thought you were straight.” 

“Please go kiss your boyfriend, he’s driving me absolutely mad!” 

The only one not speaking was Draco. He was just staring at Harry in that same transfixed expression. Harry blushed brilliantly, and waved at them all to quiet down. Then, with it silent once more, he approached Draco with that same charming smile. “Hey,” he said. 

“Hi,” Draco flushed. 

“You...um,” Harry continued the nervous gesture of rubbing the back of his neck. “You look really nice this morning,” he finished, coloring an even darker shade. 

“Thank you,” Draco gulped. 

“Er,” Harry finally looked at the rest of his dormmates. “I guess the secret is out,” he finished lamely. Dean laughed while Seamus clapped excitedly next to him. The girls stared intently, their hands covering their lips in shock. 

“Yeah,” Draco responded, slightly breathless. He had no idea what they were supposed to do right now. But he certainly liked where they were headed. Harry looked really good with that color to his neck and cheeks. 

“Oh...what the hell,” Harry chuckled, then he was leaning over Draco. Harry wrapped a hand around his neck and pulled him close, pressing his lips against Draco’s. This kiss was soft and sweet, and ended very quickly. But Draco could vaguely hear Dean and Seamus cheering them on, which did nothing to help Draco’s blush. 

After they had finished their kiss, the girls stood up from the table. “Wow, well on that note...I think...” Padma began. 

“We’re going to get going,” Parvati finished for her sister, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her out the door. 

Dean laughed, shaking his head. “Oh, don’t worry about them. They reacted much in the same way when they caught us snogging the first time. They’ll get over it.” 

“Secretly, I think they find it hot,” Seamus said, his gaze still trained on Draco and Harry. “Can’t say that I’d blame them on that one...” 

Harry shook his head, chuckling. “You are insane,” he stated. Then Harry had waved his wand and his favorite mug came sailing to the table. He took a seat across from Draco and proceeded to pour the tea. Afterwards, he plucked a peppermint stick out of a jar at the center of the table. After Seamus and Dean’s baking session, they’d left the peppermint in the middle of the table along with some matching ornaments as some sort of makeshift table centerpiece. It was oddly charming and no one seemed to complain. 

  


He took a sip of his minty tea and Draco watched closely as he swallowed. “Merlin,” Dean cut in. “If you guys want, we can leave you two alone. I don’t think I can stand much more of how you two are looking at each other...” 

“Pfft,” Harry dismissed that idea quickly. “Now you just know how it feels anytime someone walks in on you guys. We’ll behave, won’t we, Draco?” 

“Yeah....” He responded, as if in a trance. Harry had pulled out the peppermint stick and was nibbling on the tip and Draco had lost all rational thought. 

“Bloody fucking hell, c’mon love,” Dean grumbled, pulling Seamus to his feet. They gathered the rest of their things and sent them floating back into their room. They vanished shortly after. 

Harry hadn’t spared them a second glance, and kept sucking at the peppermint. But he paused abruptly when he noticed Draco’s expression. His grey eyes were flickering with want and intent and so much heat, that Harry had to stifle a groan. He slipped the peppermint out from his lips and dipped it back into his cup. 

“Harry...are you trying to kill me here?” 

He shook his head, his messy hair falling into his face. Smiling cheekily, he replied, “It wasn’t my intent, but I’m pleased you’ve noticed regardless.” 

“I’ve always noticed you,” Draco whispered, saying it so soft that Harry could have easily missed it. He gulped, clearing his throat and tried to divert his gaze from Harry licking the sugar off his lips. “Harry...what are we even doing?” 

He shrugged nervously. “I’m not sure. I was going to have breakfast with you then probably go to the gym. Have you run today?” 

“I got back over an hour ago,” he said. “And besides that’s not what I meant and I think you know it. I’ll ask you again. What are we doing? Was that date just a one-time thing? Are you wanting something else...or someone else? You hadn’t written me after my last letter and I’ve barely seen you here.” Draco frowned, looking at his empty coffee cup. 

Harry reached across the table for his hand. His hand was warm and slightly sweaty, and Draco admired his golden skin against Draco’s very pale complexion. “Draco, if it was a one-time thing, I wouldn’t have kissed you in front of our friends. I had to take some time, to think about what all this means. I’ve been gone because I had to confide in Hermione in all of this. We’re trying to work together on how best to reveal it all to Ron.” 

“Oh,” Draco felt his flush rising past his cheeks and up his neck. “So, Granger knows? What um...how did she react?” 

Harry laughs, shaking his head. “She guessed before I could even get the words out. I think when I’d came out as bisexual, she had a sneaking suspicion. She seems to think we’d be good together, if you’ve truly changed your...er, past prejudices.” 

“I was just a child that was taught all the wrong things,” Draco frowned, pulling his lip in with his teeth. 

“I know,” Harry smiled encouragingly. “I guess what I’m trying to say in all this, Draco, is that I’m wanting there to be more. I’d like a repeat of the other night, and preferably many more nights just like it. If you weren’t that important to me, I wouldn’t even bother with telling Ron—especially given I know he‘s not going to react in the best of ways. But I think it’ll be worth it. I want you, Draco. I think I’ve wanted you for quite a while, and I just had no idea.” 

Draco felt his lips tug at the corners, and he gave Harry a hesitant smile. “I want you too,” he said simply. 

“Good,” Harry grinned, finishing the rest of his tea. “Well, if you’ve got the time you could join me at the gym. We could talk more about this there.” 

He felt his smile come back full force, and Draco answered, “Sure. Let’s go.” 


	16. Chapter 16

The gym was a horrible idea, Draco soon realized. How was he supposed to focus on anything else but the sweat accumulating at Harry’s brow and sliding further down his neck? His face was beautifully flushed, muscles clenching as he performed his pushups, crunches, and various other stretches. Draco attempted to meet him for each stretch, but after a while he lingered behind. Harry was just too distracting, and those form fitting joggers hid _nothing_. 

Harry took a breather, wiping the back of his hand across his forehead. He leaned over, hands holding his knees as he panted. “You want to spar with me?” 

“I shouldn’t,” Draco said automatically, though his body thought the idea was rather fantastic. He recalled the one and only time they sparred here and it was during their first week in the program. They were instructed on wrestling techniques in case they were ever assaulted without their wand. Of course, their professor paired them off for a demonstration. Draco secretly thought it was to witness the sick satisfaction of an Ex-Death Eater get the shit beat out of him by Boy Wonder. 

But what ended up happening instead was Draco squirming out from under him and avoiding blows at all costs. He didn’t want to swing at Potter—he knew if he even attempted it, chances are he’d be punished for such a thing. So, he darted this way and that. Their instructor was bored and impatient and whistled to signal the end of the demonstration. And when they were finished, Harry had a confused look to his face and asked, “Why didn’t you hit me?” Draco never did answer his question. 

“I won’t hurt you,” Harry’s voice cut in through Draco’s thoughts and brought him back to where they were now. He frowned, “I just spar with Ron all the time and he’s not very good. I think I need more of a challenge.” He stood up from his hunched position, stretching his arms over his head. Draco tried desperately not to look at the stripe of skin at his waist that was revealed from his shirt riding up. “I recall I couldn’t even land a punch on you the last time. In order for me to get better, I think I need the practice with a better partner.” 

“I never thought I’d witness the day you’d say I was better than Weasley at something,” Draco smirked. 

Harry mirrored his own smirk with one of his own. He walked slowly to where Draco was standing, and didn’t stop till his sweaty chest pressed against Draco. From this proximity Draco could smell his cologne and sweat and his mouth ran dry. Potter smelled delicious—almost too good. Draco had to desperately refrain from leaning in and inhaling. But before he could even attempt such a thing, he turned his head and whispered close to Draco’s ear, “Hit me, Malfoy.” 

If Draco were 8 years younger, he’d have jumped at the opportunity. But now at 20, things were very different. Draco was afraid if given the chance to get that close, he certainly wouldn’t be hitting Potter—but something else entirely. He flushed, stepping back to give him some space from Harry. “No,” he shook his head. 

It was merely a second before Harry was closing in on Draco once more, but he wrapped his arm firmly around Draco’s waist and pulled. Draco’s breath left him in a rush as he stared down at him. “Are you scared?” Harry asked, his eyes searching Draco’s. 

He let his eyes linger on Harry for longer, as if to answer his question with his stare. Then before he knew what he was doing he closed the distance between them, lips pressing firmly against Potter. Draco heard him gasp in surprise before he started to kiss him back. Their tongues slipped, and before Harry could pull him in even further, Draco lifted his hand and pressed it to the other man’s chest. He pushed Harry hard, knocking him down onto the matted floor. 

Harry chuckled, and started to pull himself up. Draco wasn’t having that. He pushed him again, this time at his shoulders. Harry fell back in a loud thump. Then before he could recover, Draco leaped. He swiftly slipped an arm around Harry’s waist, holding him in place. Harry started to lift his legs for better leverage, only to have Draco press his knee down on one calf, the other hand holding his thigh down. “You give?” he asked, panting. 

“Never,” Harry groaned. Draco watched, mesmerized as Harry’s chest rose and fall. He knew he couldn’t release his hold—it would be just like Harry to take advantage of a moment of weakness. Draco decided to dig his knee further into Harry’s leg, and Harry hissed under him. He smirked, applying even more pressure with the pads of his fingers to his thigh. 

Then all of a sudden Harry swung at Draco, and it was so unexpected that Draco moved back, releasing his hold on his thigh. With his leg free, Harry wrapped it quickly around Draco’s waist and turned them around. He grappled for Draco’s hands, Draco squirming under him and making it almost impossible. He kept trying to bring his legs up to kick Harry off of him and the only way for Harry to stop that was to lean his other leg over both of Draco’s. 

Immediately they felt something else entirely from this new position, because now Harry’s groin had lined up with Draco’s. Both of them flushed brilliantly, because how could they not notice how this struggle was affecting both of them. The joggers concealed nothing, and Draco clenched his eyes shut as he felt Harry’s answering hardness against his own. Merlin, all he’d need to do would be to buck his hips like so... 

Immediately they stifled a moan, and Draco was so lost. Harry somehow recovered from the distraction first, because he was able to successfully grab Draco’s wrists and pin them over his head. Draco wasn’t even going to fight it anymore, he was exactly where he wanted to be. “You give?” This time, Harry had asked, letting out a ragged breath. 

“I’ll give you something,” Draco whispered, lifting his head off the mat and chasing Harry’s lips. They connected once more in a burning kiss. 

Harry groaned automatically, opening his mouth to allow Draco’s tongue to slip inside. He was going absolutely mad with the feel of Draco completely underneath him, and Harry couldn’t stand it anymore. With his other hand not holding Draco’s wrists, he brought it up to Draco’s chest and caressed him through the fabric of his shirt. He loved how sharp the planes of his chest felt, and Harry couldn’t help yanking on the t-shirt and pulling it aside. At last his hands connected with bare flesh, and Draco moaned along Harry’s lips. 

“Harry,” he whined, breaking the kiss in order to let out a few shaking breaths. 

“Hmm?” Harry hummed, his lips wasting no moment in finding a spot on the side of his neck. He was licking and nipping along the skin there and Draco shuddered under him. 

“We can’t....not here. And I have to...oh,” Draco sighed as Harry started to suck a little harder at a spot behind his ear. It felt so good, and he wanted nothing more than to get lost in this moment with him. But for some reason the words kept tumbling out of his mouth, “I have...class soon.” 

“Fuck,” Harry groaned. Of course, he had class as well. He’d just simply forgotten about it. Kind of hard to focus on much of anything at all with this gorgeous blonde under him. He sighed, releasing his hold along Draco’s wrists and rolled off of him. He laid on his back on the mat, taking a few longer breaths to calm his racing heart. Unconsciously he trailed a hand down to the front of his joggers and pressed his palm down on his erection, willing for it to calm down too. Draco glanced at the movement and bit down on his lips, watching Harry. 

“We can’t skip,” Draco said with a hint of sadness. He started to slowly pull himself up and brushed his clothes off. “Maybe I can see you later and we can talk more. Didn’t get to talk much while we were here,” he added cheekily. 

Snorting, Harry turned his head to look at the spot Draco had been in moments before. To his surprise, there was a small red and sparkly thing on the mat. He blinked, bringing into focus. It was a tiny sequined heart shaped ornament. “Hey Draco,” he chuckled, picking up the small heart. 

  


Draco paused, as he was already making his way out of the room. He turned to see Harry holding the heart-shaped ornament. Immediately he flushed. “Where‘d you get that?” he asked, already sort of expecting the answer. 

“I think you might have conjured it on accident,” he answered with a knowing smile. He walked the few steps to where Draco stood and made to reach for his hand. 

Draco shook his head, blonde hair falling into his face. “You keep it,” he suggested, his face turning a shade darker from embarrassment. He really needed to get his emotions under control—who knew what he’d conjure next? 

Grinning that same maddening smile, Harry closed his fingers around the ornament. “Thanks,” he said. 

Little did he know he already had Draco’s heart. 


	17. Chapter 17

It was evening and Draco found himself lounging on an antique settee in Blaise Zabini’s suite. The Weird Sisters holiday album was playing downstairs, and they could hear it all the way up here on the second level. Pansy sat next to him, wearing a skintight pencil skirt and bright vermilion lipstick. She was pointing her wand at her nails, going through various designs. Every time she’d always go through the whole spectrum of colors only for her to settle with black in the end. 

“Blaise,” she whined. “Could you hurry this up already?” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he said behind a baroque room divider. He’d been hidden behind there for ages and Draco was just about to get up and go downstairs. 

“You’re such a bore, dear.” Pansy lifted her martini glass to her lips and took another sip. They were both on their third glass of the evening. “Why are you even trying so hard? You always look gorgeous. Come out and let’s go play. Our Gryffindors should be showing up any minute now...” 

“Merlin, we have Gryffindors,” Draco muttered, taking a large gulp out of his own glass. “What has happened to us?” 

Pansy snorted. “Let’s see, Longbottom got fit. Blaise finally has the Quidditch star he’d been chasing for weeks. And you’ve finally told our Lord and Savior Potter how you feel about him...” 

“Ugh, please don’t call him that. He’s not the Muggle Jesus or anything...” 

“No, he just died and came back. Just a simple trick like pulling a rabbit out of a hat, really,” her eyes shined as she looked over at Draco. He rolled his eyes right back at her and was about to respond when Blaise finally reappeared. 

Blaise Zabini was always so sharp looking, and tonight would be no different. He wore some expensive designer dress robes that accentuated his broad shoulders and thin waist perfectly. Draco and Pansy gave him both an appreciative glance. “Well?” he asked, doing a small turn in front of the gilded mirror. 

Pansy hummed thoughtfully, and stood up to join him in front of their reflection. She straightened his silk tie and dusted off invisible lint from his shoulder. “Hmm, too bad we’re not single. I’d have suggested we have a little bit more fun before we joined the party.” 

He laughed. Draco exclaimed, “Pansy!” 

“Oh, like you’re not thinking it too, Draco,” she challenged him. 

“No, I’m not thinking that at all. I’m thinking I might need to leave the room before you jump him. And if I witness anything to go obliviate myself.” 

“Guys,” Blaise cut in. Both Draco and Pansy turned to him. “Thank you for being here tonight. This is a big night for me. The reason I’ve spent so long picking out an outfit...” 

“MERLIN! SHUT UP!” Pansy gasped, her hands covering her cheeks. “Are you proposing?!” 

He chuckled, shaking his head. All Draco could do was stare on in shock, practically on the edge of his seat. “No, well, not really. I’m inviting her to come live with me.” 

“What?!” Pansy screeched. “Isn’t that a little _soon_?” 

He ran a hand through his hair, smoothing it in place. “Perhaps. It’s sort of complicated though. With her on the road and travelling so much, she doesn’t have a place of her own. When she’s in town she Floo’s here from the Burrow and that’s all right, I guess. I just wanted to give her the option, really. I wanted to let her know when she’s in London she can just come home, to me. I want her to be here. I want her to feel like she can always be here. If that makes any sense...” 

“Merlin,” Pansy sighed. “As sweet as that all is, you’re starting to sound like a Hufflepuff. I think it’s safe to say I have no desire to jump you anymore.” 

“Great,” Blaise smiled charmingly back at her in response. She stuck out her tongue. 

All Draco could say was, “Wow.” He’d never believe he’d see the day where Blaise Zabini, known heartbreaker of Hogwarts, would settle down on just one person. And especially Ginny Weasley of all people. 

Before Draco could think any more on the subject, a house elf popped into the bedroom and bowed politely. “Master,” he addressed Blaise. “Miss Ginevra Weasley has arrived with friends Mr. Harry Potter and Mr. Neville Longbottom, sir.” 

“Perfect,” grinned Blaise. “Tell them we’ll be down shortly.” The elf nodded and without another word disapparated with a loud snap. Draco stood from the settee and extended his arm for Pansy. She slipped her arm through his without a word, placing her palm on his forearm. Blaise looked at them with an amused smirk. “You two ready?” 

“Dear, we’ve been in here for ages. Let’s go.” 

  


For graduating Hogwarts, Blaise Zabini was gifted with a Victorian townhouse in Chelsea. It was similar in the way to how Pansy’s flat was, nestled between other neighboring Muggle properties. However, the home itself was magical in nature, charmed space expanding from the moment you stepped through the front door. The best feature of the townhouse was the entrance way. Once you walked in, the floor plan was very open and there were staircases on either side trimmed in a rich mahogany. For this particular Christmas party, Blaise had decorated the banisters with hundreds of Christmas ornaments and a spiraling garland. Two Christmas trees could be seen, one in the main hall, and one directly atop of it on the second-floor entrance way. It was at this entrance way that the Slytherins got their first look at their dates for the evening. 

Ginny was laughing at something Neville was describing. He was waving his hands around and gesturing wildly, and he practically knocked over the drink tray a house elf offered to them. This then caused Harry to laugh also. Pansy was done with watching this fiasco unfold, and dragged Draco down the stairs with her. “Just what on earth is so funny?” 

“Oh! Pansy,” Neville grinned, walking over and taking her hand and kissing it softly. “I was just giving Ginny a demonstration of Luna’s mating ritual dance. She’s researching on how to repopulate and protect the existing Blibbering Humdinger population.” 

“She always was quite the character,” Pansy muttered, shaking her head. Neville, Ginny, and Harry watched her carefully. She rolled her eyes, “Oh but honestly, she can’t be all that bad. She gave Draco an early Christmas present after all. I haven’t even gotten him anything yet!” 

Draco flushed, as everyone moved their attention to him. “Pansy, we’ve been through this. You don’t have to get me anything. And yes,” he took a sip of his drink. “Luna’s gift, though unexpected, was very thoughtful.” 

Ginny tilted her head inquisitively. “Just what exactly did she give you? I don’t think she’s given us anything yet this holiday season...” 

“Oh, um, it was a CD. Harry’s heard it.” His eyes met Harry’s across the top edge of his glass. Harry grinned. Even though it was such a simple gesture, Draco could never really get over Harry and the _smile_ he always seemed to have. It was a smile like no other, as if it was specifically reserved for Draco, and him alone. 

Pansy watched their exchange intently, then smirked. Moving her eyes from them, she focused on Neville instead. She pulled away from Draco and she clicked her heels on the marble floor over to him. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and she leaned into his embrace. “Dear, let’s go leave the two love birds, shall we? There’s a party in the dining hall, and I fancy dancing right now.” 

As they left, Draco snorted. “Love birds? Really? Just who exactly do you think she’s referring to?” He turned his gaze from them to their group—which now only consisted of him and Potter. “What! Where’d they go?” 

Harry’s smile widened, his eyes sparkling under the Christmas lights. “They went upstairs just before Pansy and Neville left. When we, er, were looking at each other.” His face turned a pretty shade of pink. 

“Oh,” Draco gripped the banister. He was still standing on the staircase looking down to Harry. He made to walk the last step, only to stop when he saw Harry close in their distance. 

Harry bowed, extending his hand. “May I have this dance, Draco?” 

“A dance? Here?” Draco raised an eyebrow, questioningly. Still, he couldn’t help but slip his hand into Harry’s, their fingers tangling. 

Harry stood up, helping Draco down the last step. Now on even footing, Draco was still slightly taller. Harry stood on the tips of his toes and reached for Draco’s lips with his own. Even though it was a quick, practically chaste kiss, Draco still felt as if he was melting. Harry’s smile and his sheer close proximity wasn’t helping matters either. 

“Sure, why not?” He led Draco directly to the center of the entrance way. They were now standing directly below the tree from the second floor and in front of the larger one in the main hall. Music could be heard from the party, and Harry didn’t hesitate another moment. He placed his hand on Draco’s waist, and pulled him close. Draco’s breath caught. 

“I’m sure if you were to ask Parvati,” he continued on, lifting their joined hands, “she’d have told you I was the worst dancer to ever partner with her.” Draco would have laughed at that, if he weren’t so lost in what was happening. “But I can assure you,” he leaned closer, resting his cheek against Draco’s as he whispered into his ear, “I have learned a lot since the Yule Ball.” 

He took a shuddering breath, trying to calm his racing heart. When he finally felt like he had everything under control he muttered, “Then show me what you can do, Potter.” 

Harry chuckled in his ear, pressing them close. Then they began to dance under the twinkling lights and ornaments. 


	18. Chapter 18

Hours later and they were stumbling through the Floo back into the dorm. Draco had fallen gracelessly over Harry and they were giggling, trying to make their way to the couch. “Merlin, I can’t believe Blaise actually asked her to move in,” Harry laughed, shaking his head. 

Draco grinned, reaching for Harry’s hair where some stray tinsel was still buried within. He pulled the shiny silver strands out. “I can’t believe she said yes. She must be as crazy about him as he is for her.” 

Smiling, Harry brought his own hand to stroke through Draco’s hair. There wasn’t any tinsel in his strands of platinum though. Draco was already rather flushed and lightheaded from the drinks at the party, but Harry’s touch caused his cheeks to warm even more. “Don’t know if you’ve noticed,” he whispered, leaning closer. His lips brushed over Draco’s, “but I’m just as crazy for you.” 

Then they were kissing, and it held a sense of urgency and heat much like their first kiss in the alley. Draco groaned, his head spinning and he had to lean back on the couch. Harry took that as some sort of invitation and the next moment he was climbing onto Draco’s lap, straddling him. Draco’s breath left him in a rush. “Fuck, Harry,” he moaned, wrapping an arm around his neck and pulling him that much closer. 

It was as if the fingers digging into Harry’s hair at the base of his neck caused him to go full force. Harry ran his own hands through Draco’s hair, cupping his cheek softly, caressing his neck, all the while his lips never left Draco’s. Then his touch grew bolder, as Draco started to get louder and before he knew it, Harry’s hands were working the buttons of his vest. His hands were clumsy and hurried and Harry huffed in their kiss, breaking away to look down at Draco’s chest. “Too many buttons...god, Draco...” 

He laughed nervously, pushing Harry’s hands aside to help him get it off that much quicker. When the last button finally slipped free, Harry quickly shucked it off Draco’s shoulders and proceeded to pull out his silk shirt from his trousers. His hand came up to Draco’s collar, gently working those buttons down as well. Draco stopped breathing, feeling Harry’s fingers brush against his bare chest. “H-Harry,” he stuttered. 

Pausing, his eyes lifted to Draco’s face. He was panting, fair hair in a tangled mess along the cushions. His skin illuminated from the fireplace and surrounding candles of the Christmas tree. “Yes, Draco?” Harry asked, swallowing. His fingers had unhooked the last button and now they rested hesitantly at Draco’s waistband. 

“What are we doing?” Draco asked, breathless. Harry was transfixed by how his chest moved with his erratic breathing. 

Gulping, Harry considered for a moment. The silence seemed to stretch between then, Harry’s hands burning a spot at the waistband of his trousers. It was driving Draco absolutely mad, and he was regretting even asking the question if this was the result. But before he could think more on it, Harry shocked him by breaking the silence. “Well...I wanted to put your cock in my mouth. But er...if you don’t want to, we don’t have to...” 

Draco let out a strangled noise, feeling himself harden immediately. “Fuck, Harry,” he groaned once more, clenching his eyes shut. He couldn’t look at those earnest and gleaming green eyes right now. It was too much. “Right here?” he asked instead, almost shyly. 

Chuckling, Harry leaned in and kissed at the sensitive spot behind his ear. Trust Potter to zero in right at his weakness and go for the kill. Draco was a shuddering mess under him when Harry finally replied, “I’d do it right here or anywhere else you want. I don’t care. I just very much want to suck your cock. Right now.” 

“Merlin.” Draco was so lost. Harry hooked his thumbs inside playfully, and Draco squirmed. “Yes, yes,” he whined, and Potter didn’t waste another second. He stood up from Draco’s lap and pulled Draco’s trousers and pants down in one swift movement, his cock bobbed as the fabric pulled over him and finally was set free. Draco’s eyes had been shut this whole time, not trusting himself to look at what was happening. He was afraid if he’d look, it’d be over before it even started. But Draco couldn’t stand it anymore, and slowly opened his eyes to look at Harry. 

Harry, who was staring at him reverently and in wonder. Draco felt his already present blush travel down his neck, his cock twitching under Harry’s gaze. He sucked in a sharp breath, falling to his knees in front of Draco. He grabbed Draco’s waist, pulling him to the edge of the couch. Draco automatically spread his legs which allowed Harry to settle in the space between. Then Harry hadn’t hesitated another moment and leaned over to kiss Draco’s inner thigh. Draco jerked in surprise, and Harry chuckled. “Trust you to look absolutely fucking perfect,” Harry inhaled, “and you smell just as good.” 

The kisses along the inside of his legs were driving Draco insane. He was going to go mad if Harry didn’t touch him and soon. At last, his lips started to travel up, and Harry buried his face in the fine hairs below Draco’s stomach. He felt his erection press into Harry’s throat, rubbing against his stubble and Adam’s apple, and he had to suppress the urge to wiggle forward. He also wanted to just grab a hold of Harry’s hair and guide him—but would that be rude? Draco really was struggling with this patience thing, it never was one of his strong suits. 

“I thought you were going to suck my cock,” groaned Draco. 

The prat snickered, moving his hand below to fondle with his testicles. Draco really tried not to whine, but failed miserably. Harry’s touch was electric and left his skin tingling everywhere his fingers and tongue left a trail. “I will. Impatient, are we?” 

“Potter stop fucking teasing and get on with it,” Draco huffed in irritation. “Don’t say you are going to do it and then back out. If you don’t have your mouth on me in the next minute, I’m going to shove your face down there and do it regardless.” 

This seemed to spur Harry into action because he slipped an arm around Draco’s waist and held him in place. “You’re such a fucking prat,” moaned Harry, his lips parting to finally seal around the tip. Immediately, Draco wanted to press forward and he whined when Harry’s fingers dug into his waist and held him firmly in place. He pulled off on a loud pop, the noise so obscene in the living room. “I’ll let you fuck my face another time, but for now I’m setting the pace. Buckle up, Malfoy, you’re at my mercy.” He grinned slyly, licking along Draco’s entire length. Draco had never seen anything so fucking hot in his whole life. 

He had to close his eyes. It was absolute torture. But eventually Harry began to take him deep and Draco had nothing else to think of but the tight heat of Harry’s mouth wrapped around him. He started out slow and steady, the pressure almost too much. He could feel his body strung tight and clenching, trying to hold it all back. There’d be no way Harry wouldn’t take the piss if Draco finished so quickly. Draco shouldn‘t have been surprised. It was just another of Harry’s many talents. Who knew the boy who lived was a natural cocksucker? Draco tried not to let the jealous thoughts come forward. But he was naturally curious as to whom he’d been practicing on. Clearly this wasn’t his first time. 

Then the pace quickened, and Draco started to pant. There was no way he could hide what this was doing to him anymore. At last, he slipped his fingers inside Harry’s mess of hair and tugged tight. “Fuck,” he exhaled shakily. His thighs were trembling, and Harry’s fingers were gripping him so hard, they were sure to leave bruises. He knew if Harry wasn’t holding him down though, there’d be no way Draco would have stayed still. “I’m going to,” he mumbled, feeling so close already. 

Harry pulled off, gripping Draco’s base tightly to suppress the feeling. Draco’s eyes snapped open and they met Harry’s gaze immediately. “Look at me,” Harry croaked out, his voice completely destroyed. “Look at me when you come down my throat,” he demanded. 

“Fucking hell,” Draco moaned, his cock throbbing in Harry’s strong grip. Then Harry bent down again and took him deep, his eyes never leaving Draco’s. He held Draco for one more agonizing slide, and then released his grip. Draco shouted, feeling his climax immediately, and watched as Harry greedily swallowed it all. The image of Harry’s eyes smoldering as Draco came will be forever burned in Draco’s mind. 

At last, Harry let go, licking one last time along his entire length. Draco shuddered and Harry stood up. Draco’s gaze immediately zeroed in on Harry’s still very prominent erection pressed along the front of his trousers. He really, desperately, wanted to pull his clothes off and reciprocate. Harry groaned, pressing the heel of his hand to his length. “I really want to come,” he mumbled, swaying slightly on his feet. “It’s getting so late though...” 

Draco wasn’t going to have that. He made his decision before his thoughts even collected completely. He stood from the couch, gathering his clothes in his arms. “Let’s go to my room,” he suggested. “You can lay on my bed, while I blow your mind by blowing your cock.” 

Harry grinned, kissing the corner of Draco’s lips. “Ok,” he giggled, grabbing Draco’s hand. They skipped out of the living room, practically giddy with what just happened and what was about to happen in Draco’s bedroom. 

The enchanted candles surrounding the Christmas tree flickered off as Draco’s door snicked shut. 


	19. Chapter 19

“So, have you shagged him yet?” 

Draco sputtered over his tea cup. “What?” He screeched, feeling his face flame. 

Pansy smirked over her own tea, taking a small sip and placing the cup on its saucer delicately. “Have you shagged him?” She repeated, her grin turning feral. 

“I don’t have to tell you any such thing!” He argued, covering his face in his hands. 

She shrugged, grabbing a biscuit and taking a nibble. “No, you don’t. But it just seemed sort of obvious with how you two were making faces at each other at the party. You were absolutely besotted, dear.” 

“I was not!” He glared across the table, crossing his arms defiantly. 

“Right, then.” Finishing her tea, she reached over for the kettle and poured herself another cup. “So, are the rumors true then? Our hero, big cock? Ginevra wouldn’t let me know one way or the other, the wretch.” 

“You asked Ginny Weasley how big Potter’s cock was?” He couldn’t believe this woman. “Why does it even matter to you? It’s not like he’s seeing you!” 

Pansy scoffed. “So, I’m not allowed to be just generally curious about it? You’re my best friend, Draco. I want to make sure you’re happy.” 

“You sound like a big cock is the only thing that’d make me happy,” he groaned, resting his head on the kitchen table. 

“Well, it’s certainly a start. Especially Harry’s big cock,” laughed Dean. Seamus and him waltzed into the kitchen right at that moment. Dean had his arm draped over his shoulder, while Seamus was rifling through the cabinet for their own cups. They joined them at the table. 

“Have you seen it?” Pansy leaned over, whispering. Or rather, she tried to whisper. Pansy was never quiet nor subtle about anything. 

Seamus rolled his eyes, twirling a spoon in his tea. “Obviously. How many years have we shared a room with him? And well, given how big he is, it’s hard for him to hide something like that anyway.” 

Pansy leered. 

Draco was ready to hex everyone. “I hate every single one of you,” he groaned, feeling his face warm. 

“So how _big_ is he, exactly?” Pansy asked Dean and Seamus, completely ignoring Draco. All he could do was glare at his friend—and secretly contemplate going back to his room to get his wand. 

To Draco’s horror, Dean and Seamus started to look around the kitchen and surrounding living room for a comparison. “Guys, stop,” he pleaded as Dean held up various kitchen utensils, considering. This was so embarrassing. 

  


“Oh! I got it!” Giggled Seamus, picking up the fucking _yule log_ set aside by the fireplace. Pansy gasped, as he carried the thick bundle of wood to the table. Seamus dropped it, the loud thump as it hit the table deafening. Then they were all cackling hysterically, and Draco had just about enough. 

“Fine!” He growled. “He’s not that big! You are ridiculous!” 

“Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating slightly. But he is rather girthy like this log,” Seamus snickered. 

“All right, yes,” Draco blushed. “But he’s definitely not that long.” 

Seamus and Dean’s eyes widened in shock. “Wait, Draco. You’ve fucked Harry already?!” Dean gaped in surprise. “This is what, your second date? Isn’t that a little soon? I mean, for someone like Harry...” 

Pansy rolled her eyes and was about to respond when Draco interrupted her. “Before you even start, no. Harry and I haven’t shagged. I’ve seen his cock, but no. We haven’t gone all the way. You all happy now?” 

“No,” Pansy frowned. “Draco, is something wrong?” 

He made a distressed sound at the back of his throat, then bowed his head to the table, wrapping his arms around himself. “It’s just...I really fucking like him—at least I think so. And I’m afraid I’m going to screw this all up. Ok?” Draco took a shaking breath. “It doesn’t help that I haven’t got a clue on what to do next.” 

“What do you mean?” Pansy asked, eyebrow rising. “You’re over thinking things. Just do what comes natural.” 

Groaning, he rubbed the back of his hand across his eyes. “No, Pansy. That’s not it. It’s just...I’ve never...” 

Seamus dropped his tea cup, making a loud clattering sound. “Wait, Draco are you a...?” 

“What? No! He couldn’t possibly be!” Pansy cut in, her voice rising. “Draco’s been with Teddy, Blaise, and even what’s his name? Cassius? Wasn’t he the one you blew in the Quidditch locker room showers?” 

“Merlin, shut up for a minute!” Draco growled. They all fell silent, frozen in place. “It was just a blow job! That’s all it’s ever been. If you would have just asked Blaise he’d have told you the same thing. I’ve never actually...” He faltered, chewing on his bottom lip. “I’ve never been with anyone like that before. And since the war it’s not like I’ve had many prospects...” 

“Draco...” Pansy reached for him, wrapping her arm around him and rubbing small circles along his back. “It’s fine, darling. You have nothing to worry about...” 

“Mate, it’s fine. Harry isn’t going to be bothered by that. He really likes you,” Dean smiled, reassuringly. 

“Just make sure he takes his time preparing you. Just use lots of lube,” Seamus grinned cheekily, but faltered at the look Draco gave him across the table. “Er, or you take time preparing him? I didn’t mean to assume you were the bottom! I have no idea, sorry for bringing it up!” 

“I don’t even know! It’s hard to tell what I like when I haven’t even done anything.” 

“It’s ok, Draco,” Dean reached for his hand and gave it a friendly squeeze. “Just be honest with him. He’s used to people lying to him all the time, trying to get his attention. Just be yourself around him, let him know how you’re feeling. I can guarantee he’d like you even more for that.” 

“Even if it’s something incredibly embarrassing like that?” 

“ _Especially_ if it’s something embarrassing. But Draco, that’s not even that bad as you are making it out to be. Listen, you’ll be fine. Just go to him and tell him the truth. There’s no way he’d even react in a negative way to it. But if on the off chance he does, Seamus and I will break down his door and beat the ever-loving crap out of him.” 

“All right, I guess,” he agreed reluctantly. He really didn’t want to have this talk with Harry, but with how quick things have heated up, he knew he might need to tell him sooner or later. 

“We’ll be right here with you if things go awry,” Pansy leaned in, kissing his cheek. “We are happy for you and Harry. It’s going to be fine, love. You have nothing to worry about.” 

Draco really hoped she was right. But somehow, he still couldn’t ignore the lingering sense of doom. What if Harry didn’t want to be Draco’s first? Draco couldn’t blame him if that was how he’d really feel. There’s a lot of pressure there, being someone’s first. 

Either way, the only way for Draco to find out how Harry would feel about it would be to tell him. Draco inhaled deeply, trying to calm his nerves. He stood up from his spot at the table and made his way back to his room. He forced himself to avoid looking at his bed, because even thinking about what happened there made his head spin and his stomach lurch. Shaking his head, he stared at his wardrobe and began to pick out an outfit for tonight’s date with Harry. 

Harry had told him to dress comfortably. Draco had a feeling no matter what he picked to wear, comfortable would be the last thing he’d be feeling. 


	20. Chapter 20

Draco watched the clock closely above the fireplace. Harry had told him to wait by the Floo and he’d come to get him around 6. As each minute drew near, Draco grew more nervous. He still had another ten minutes so he needed to focus on something else. He reached for the Prophet Dean had left on the coffee table. Staring blankly at the photo of the front of Gringotts, the words barely made any sense. Apparently, there was another attempt at a break in—but they proved to be unsuccessful. Nothing new there. Harry was the only one that could steal something from there and live to tell the tale. 

  


He flipped through the paper, finding the Quidditch section and noting the leaderboard with the Holyhead Harpies set to take the top spot. His eyes scanned the rest of the page, falling on a photo of Ginny Weasley flying through the air and throwing the Quaffle. The caption read, _Ginny Weasley, beloved ex-lover of Harry Potter. When asked why they split, she gave no comment. She has seemed to have gotten over Potter quickly and was last spotted at the annual Parkinson Christmas party with Blaise_ _Zabini_ _._

He snorted, flipping over the pages once more. The Prophet hadn’t the faintest idea, had they? Draco let his eyes wander listlessly over the advertisements on the following page. So many businesses urging people to purchase their products for Christmas. He really needed to take the time to do his own shopping. His mind was trying to come up with various gifts to give Pansy, when the Floo flared and Harry stumbled out of the fireplace. 

Dusting off his sleeves, he straightened his glasses and looked over at Draco. “Oh, I told you to dress comfortably.” 

Bristling, Draco set the paper back on the coffee table and looked down at his lap. He was wearing nice trousers and a button down top. He decided to forego the matching vest and suit jacket, insisting this was comfortable enough. After all, he still hadn’t the faintest idea where they were going. He still wanted to look like he had tried. 

Potter, on the other hand, looked like he just rolled out of bed. His red and black buffalo plaid pajama bottoms hung low on his waist, the v-shaped line along his hips distracting. Draco was supposed to have come up with a response by now, but he failed. 

Laughing, Harry came over and helped him up off the couch. He pulled him close, Harry wrapping his arm around Draco’s waist. “I was sort of thinking...of just a quiet night at home. If that’s all right with you...” 

“Oh,” Draco blinked. “Here?” 

“No,” Harry gave him a small smile, almost nervous. “I do sleep here most nights, but my time is sort of split up at both places. I’m in the process of remodeling, and well...I’d like to show you the house. If that is ok...” 

“You own the old Black property,” Draco noted. It was common knowledge. Draco hadn’t stepped foot in that home since he was a small child. All he could vaguely remember of the place was drafty windows and those horrifying House Elf heads. He really hoped Harry had gotten rid of those, at least. 

“It’s not that bad, I promise,” he told Draco, while pulling him back into the Floo with him. Draco caught one last glimpse of the glittering Christmas ornaments upon the tree, before they disappeared in a rush. When his head stopped spinning and his feet met solid ground once more, he opened his eyes to see a cozy sitting room. He let Harry guide him out of the fireplace and onto a plush armchair. The chair was made of a warm chocolate leather, buttery smooth and if Draco relaxed enough, he could easily see himself falling asleep here. He did note however, there were faint scratches along the arm rests. 

Harry noticed what he’d been staring at and he chuckled. “Sorry. We are really trying to keep Crookshanks from tearing up all the furniture.” 

“Crookshanks?” 

“Er, right. Hermione’s cat,” Harry smiled sheepishly. “He can be a little wild at first, but I’ve taken a liking to him over the years...” 

“And he lives here with you?” Draco asked, somewhat confused. Why would Granger’s cat be here and not with her? 

“Um, yes. But so does Hermione. Lives here, I mean,” His smile turned nervous. “She’s not here now though. On holiday with her parents. And um, I told Ron not to come over tonight. That I had company over and that I’d see him tomorrow...” 

Draco couldn’t help letting the words slip out. “And does he know I’m the one you are spending time with?” 

“Er,” Harry scratched the back of his head. “Not exactly.” Draco’s face fell and Harry reached for his hand. “Listen, I’m working on it, ok? I’ve told him quite a bit already...and he’s warming to the idea.” 

“What exactly have you told him?” Draco asked, frowning. 

Harry ran his fingers along Draco’s hand, his smile warming. “I told him I’m seeing this new guy, that I’m absolutely mad over. That I think what we have could be something serious. That I’d really _really_ like for him to be my boyfriend, if he’ll have me.” 

Draco blinked, his mind having a hard time processing what he’d just said. He gaped silently and was just about to respond when Harry quickly cut in. “Listen, if it’s too soon, that’s fine too. I’ve just thought about this and I don’t think I can handle the idea of you with another person right now. I mean, I realize it’s pretty common to just date around, or get to know several people at once. But Draco, I guess—what I’m trying to say is I don’t need to do that. I think I’ve found what I’m looking for. So, if you need more—” 

“Harry. Stop, please.” Draco shushed him with a finger to his lips. He let his touch linger and his eyes burned as they connected with Harry’s. “Yes, Harry. _Merlin._ ” He leaned close, the distance between them miniscule, slipping his finger to trace along Harry’s stubble along his jaw. “I’d like that. Very much.” Then he pressed his lips against Harry’s growing smile and Harry wasted no time wrapping his arms around Draco in a firm embrace. 

When they pulled apart from their kiss, Draco knew now was probably the time. He took a deep breath. “Harry, there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.” 

His face turned concerned, immediately. But he sat next to him on the neighboring couch and pulled Draco’s hand to his lap. “What is it?” he asked, worry laced in his voice. 

“Right,” Draco colored. “This is somewhat embarrassing for me to say, but I think you should know before we get any further.” Harry’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t dare interrupt and waited patiently for Draco to continue. Draco inhaled once more and let out a shaking breath. “It’s just...I’ve never been completely intimate with another person. I mean, oral sex, yes. But to actually...” 

“You’ve never gone all the way,” Harry finished for him. Draco nodded, blushing even darker. Harry bit down on his lip hard, the thought alone driving him mad with a sudden rush of lust. Of course, he wanted Draco. Now with this new information, and just the idea that he could be Draco’s first just about ruined him. He crossed his legs awkwardly, hoping Draco wouldn’t notice just how excited he seemed to be from this. Harry took a calming breath this time, before he asked, “Do you...um...want to...” 

“Yes,” Draco answered automatically. Then his blush rose as he’d realized what he’d just agreed to. Of course, Draco wanted it. He’d dreamed and fantasized about shagging Harry for years, it was not a new concept by any means. But for it to actually happen—that Harry would even want to, it was almost unbelievable. 

Harry’s throat was dry, his palms sweating, and he just knew his pajamas were doing nothing to conceal his current state. It was his sheer willpower that kept him seated. He wanted very much to leap onto Draco and strip him out of his posh clothes, but he needed to remain somewhat calm. He had to give Draco a choice, he didn’t need to rush this. But somehow the frantic and eager thoughts of his brain spilled out of his lips and before he knew it, he was asking, “Tonight?” When his words rang back, Harry clenched his eyes shut and winced. Merlin, Draco would probably think he was an overeager pervert. But perhaps, to some extent, he was. He couldn’t stop thinking about Draco and his virginity and Harry getting the chance to— 

“Harry,” Draco groaned, his voice suddenly a lot closer. Harry’s eyes flew open and Draco had moved from his spot on the arm chair and was standing in front of him. He was palming his own erection through his trousers, lips parted, and his grey eyes looked like molten silver from the way he was staring Harry down with such want and intent. “Please...” He groaned once more, biting his lip as he finally moved his eyes to Harry’s lap. 

“ _Fuck.”_ Harry stood immediately, their chests pressed together from the movement. Draco didn’t step away, instead he shifted his hips purposefully and Harry hissed from the contact. “Let’s go,” he let out a breathless whisper. “Bedroom. Now.” 

Draco chuckled, trying to mask some of his nervousness. But inside his heart felt like it was going to leap out of his chest, it was beating so fast. He swallowed, noting Harry’s eyes zeroing in on his throat. Leaning closer, he moved his lips to Harry’s ear. “Show me your moves, Potter,” he muttered, before he nibbled playfully at the skin there. 

Gasping, Harry grabbed Draco roughly by his shirt and led him out of the drawing room. They made it up the stairs before Harry had to stop and pin him against the wall. He devoured Draco’s mouth in a kiss that left him breathless and almost unable to stand. “I’ll show you something, Malfoy,” he smirked, practically holding Draco up. His other hand fumbled with the nearby door, and he managed to open it while distracting Draco with kisses along his neck. Then they were stumbling into the room and Harry waved his hand casually to shut the door behind them. 

“Show off,” groaned Draco, secretly admiring the wandless magic. Harry wasted no time and was working the buttons of Draco’s shirt. When it finally came free, he moved his lips further down to his chest. Draco flushed brilliantly. 

“Mmmm...last chance to back out, Malfoy.” He mumbled, Draco feeling his stubble rubbing across his stomach and driving him crazy. 

“Not going to happen,” he shuddered. Harry had reached his belt and was unbuckling it. His breath left him in a rush when Harry reached inside his pants to stroke him. “Harry,” Draco whined, already feeling himself reacting much too quickly. 

Harry stopped his teasing, and proceeded to finish undressing him. He kissed, nipped, and caressed each inch of creamy skin revealed to him. He had been kneeling in front of Draco as he helped him out of his pants, licking along his inner thigh. Then he began to stand, once Draco was free of all his clothes. Harry stared at him in wonder, and Draco felt like melting under that gaze. “Lay on the bed, love,” he whispered, kissing him once more. 

Already lost, hearing Harry call him _that_ was almost too much. But Harry helped him with gentle hands, guiding him to the bed and settling him amongst the pillows. Draco was the one watching now, as Harry slowly removed his pajamas. Draco stopped breathing entirely when Harry’s hard cock sprang free, red and flushed and leaking. Harry pressed his hand against himself, biting his lower lip. “You just...look really good. In my bed...” 

Blushing from the praise, Draco tried not to squirm too much. His eyes were so intense, it almost felt like Harry was touching him already. And oh, how Draco really wanted for Harry to touch him. His whole skin felt like it was humming, nerves on fire, and magic tingling within him. “Come here,” he asked, losing his mind. He wanted Harry. Now. 

Joining Draco on the bed at last, Harry wrapped his body around him. And Draco was lost, so very lost in the feel of Harry everywhere. 


	21. Chapter 21

Harry was everywhere. His golden skin sliding over Draco, and almost mesmerizing with how much it contrasted to Draco’s pale complexion. His hair, much darker and courser than Draco’s, created an enticing amount of friction. They had been kissing, touching, and moving every which way for what felt like hours. Then Harry shifted once more, his throbbing erection connecting with Draco’s. Abruptly, Draco pulled out of their kiss and hissed from the contact. 

Looking down at Draco with eyes blown wide, Harry searched his face intently. “What would you like?” He asked, his voice cracking. 

Licking his lips, he noted just how swollen they felt. Despite the movement, Harry’s eyes stayed focused to his. Smiling shyly, Draco whispered, “I’m not sure. What would you like?” 

Chuckling, Harry moved his face to nip teasingly at Draco’s jawline. “Draco,” he mumbled along his skin. “I’d like to try a little of everything. But I’m fine with doing just this too, if you are nervous or unsure...” 

He was going to make him say it, wasn’t he? Draco repressed a shudder as Harry took his time at a sensitive spot along his neck. “Harry,” he huffed, squirming under his kiss. “I think I’d like...ahh.” He couldn’t even finish his own thought, it was simply too distracting. 

Reluctantly, Harry sat back on the bed. He waited, patiently, his eyes never leaving Draco. He was able to breathe easier, and when he felt like his heart wouldn’t leap out of his throat he continued. “I think I’d like for you to fuck me. I’d...um, really like to feel you inside me.” 

Green eyes blazed. “Are you sure?” he asked, swallowing hard. 

He nodded. “Yes.” 

Harry shut his eyes for a moment, almost in disbelief. When he opened them again, Draco was looking at him with renewed determination. It’d been so long since Harry had seen that look on Draco, it took him a little off guard. His lips broke out into an unexpected grin. “Right,” he chuckled. Reaching over into the bedside dresser, he pulled out a vial of lube. “This might take some time...but I don’t want to hurt you.” 

Draco settled further into the pillows, and nearly did Harry in when he bent his legs up, spreading them wide. “Fuck,” Harry practically whimpered, his focus zeroing in on Draco’s furled skin. 

Smirking, Draco spread his legs even more. “Like what you see, Potter?” 

Groaning, Harry had to squeeze himself for a moment to get under control. “I know I told you to call me Harry,” he muttered, moving in between Draco’s legs. “But I’m starting to reconsider.” Then Harry couldn’t wait another moment, and took Draco deep in his mouth. 

Immediately Draco bucked off the bed in a shout, Harry pinning him in place with hands on either side of his hips. Draco shuddered. “Harry....I’m...Merlin, you’re going to kill me if you don’t stop....” 

Reluctantly, he pulled off. His gaze still looking at the skin further down. Licking his lips, Harry couldn’t get enough. He loved how Draco smelled, how he tasted. He very much wanted to see how he tasted _there_. He couldn’t help it, he gave one more lingering kiss along his length and followed the trail, taking time to lick teasingly along his testicles—then further back. Draco’s breath immediately hitched, and he lay mostly motionless, except for his legs which seemed to tremble on either side of Harry’s face. He didn’t waste another moment, and licked a stripe along his entrance. 

“Fuck,” Draco shouted, his back arching off the bed. “Harry, what are you...” He couldn’t even finish his sentence because Harry was licking him earnestly now. Tongue swirling, and tentatively brushing against his hole. And oh, how Draco wanted nothing more. “Merlin,” he groaned, pressing himself further into Harry. “Keep going,” he urged. “Don’t stop, Potter. I’ll tell you when to stop...” 

Releasing his hands from Draco’s hips, he reached around to grab Draco’s arse and opened him up even wider. Groaning from the scent of sex and sweat and Draco, Harry’s tongue formed a tip and tentatively he pushed inside. Immediately, Draco’s hands buried into Harry’s hair and he tugged hard, urging him forward. Harry plunged further in, noting just how hot and tight Draco was. His right hand slipped, fumbling around blindly for the bottle of lube. It was practically a miracle that he was able to open it and coat his fingers, all the while his tongue stayed buried inside of Draco. 

His fingers joined Harry’s tongue causing Draco to quiver uncontrollably. He opened him up slowly, pressing against his tight ring of muscles. It wasn’t till he was fully relaxed and Harry’s finger slipped inside with ease that he added another. Draco let out a small grunt, his chest rising and falling in an erratic pattern. “You all right....love?” Harry whispered, withdrawing his face to look at him spread beautifully along the bed. He began kissing Draco’s inner thigh once more as he spread his fingers hesitantly. 

“Harry, please,” Draco pleaded, his eyes clenching shut. He could feel a hot rushing feeling forming at the base of his spine, and he knew he was too close. He needed Harry inside him, and soon. 

“Please what?” Harry kept on peppering Draco’s skin with kisses, moving further down his leg to where it met at his hip. His fingers were sliding in and out with ease now, and it wasn’t long till the third finger joined the other two. Harry watched greedily as his fingers disappeared inside, his cock throbbing. “You are doing so well,” he praised, stretching and pushing his fingers even deeper. 

“I need...” Draco moaned, bending his waist to feel even more. He was squirming and trying to feel everything. It just wasn‘t enough. “More...Harry...I’m ready...” 

Sliding his fingers out, Harry nodded, his mouth and throat suddenly dry and the words unable to form. He hissed, rubbing the lube along himself, not really realizing his own arousal and how close he was himself. He was so lost, just on Draco alone. Lining himself up, his eyes locked with Draco’s. The look they shared just about did him in, and Harry couldn’t help his name falling from his lips as he finally, finally, pushed inside. 

“Oh _fuck_ ,” Draco grunted. Harry was much wider than his fingers and Draco felt so full. 

Harry stopped, not only from seeing Draco with his eyes clenched shut at the sudden feeling—but Harry was terrified to move and finish before it even really started. “You ok?” He asked, breathless. Despite the preparation, Draco was still so impossibly tight and warm. 

He took a few deep breaths, attempting to relax. His erection had subsided somewhat, and he couldn’t really focus on much of anything at all but the tight pressure of Harry inside of him. “Give me a moment,” he urged. 

“Malfoy.” Harry had leaned over him, bringing their lips together in a gentle kiss. Draco responded eagerly, plunging his tongue inside Harry’s mouth. Of course, Harry noticed Draco’s flagging arousal. Even though it felt like he was going to literally _die_ if he couldn’t move inside Draco soon, he held back. He wasn’t going to continue unless he knew it was as good for him as it was for Draco. 

While Draco was distracted with their kissing, Harry brought his hand to Draco’s cock and began to stroke him slowly. Draco gasped against his mouth. Harry grinned, picking up the pace and relishing in the feeling of Draco filling in his grip. “You feel so good,” Harry muttered along his lips, shaking to keep from pushing that much deeper in Draco. 

Draco had been gripping the sheets on either side tightly, but as Harry stroked him, he grabbed a hold of Harry’s sweaty back, pulling him in even closer. The movement caused Harry to slide further inside, immediately making both of them moan through their kiss. “More, Harry,” Draco begged, his fingernails digging in his skin. “Give it to me.” 

“Fuck,” groaned Harry, and he needn’t be told twice. At last, he pushed the final stretch and was fully sheathed inside Draco. Underneath him, Draco wailed and arched even further off the bed. Harry kept his grip tight and hot on Draco’s cock, his other hand helping guide Draco’s legs to his shoulders. Once Draco was positioned the way Harry wanted him, he slid almost completely out and then thrusted once more. 

Whining, one of Draco’s hands at Harry’s back slipped to his arse. He gripped tight at the clenched muscle, which seemed to spur Harry on even more. They were shifting together now, each trying to get that much closer, push that much further in. Draco, already so close to begin with, felt a sharp spike of pleasure and screamed. Harry panted, biting softly at Draco’s jaw and stroking him in time to their faster pace. He could tell Draco was close, feeling him throbbing under his fingers. 

“Come with me,” He demanded, hitting that spot that made Draco scream once more. 

“Harry!” Draco shrieked, feeling himself shoot all over Harry’s fingers in a hot rush. Harry watched Draco’s release, his neck pulled back and veins along his neck popping. His channel gripped Harry’s cock, the pressure taking a hold of him and pulling out his own orgasm. He fucked him through his release, Draco screaming and scratching lines along his back. It wasn’t till Draco was completely filled that Harry slowly started to pull out. 

“Fuck,” Harry exhaled shakily, collapsing on the bed next to Draco. He wiped his brow, his lips fighting a grin as he looked at how severely flushed and debauched Draco looked. 

“I’m a mess,” groaned Draco, looking at his stomach that was covered in his release. He needed his wand to clean himself. His wand that was in his pocket—his trousers too far away. It was too much of an effort and Draco didn’t trust himself to stand right at this moment. 

“I’ll clean you up,” Harry smiled as his chest heaved. He waited till he caught his breath and then made to move down Draco once more. 

“Going to use some other wandless trick?” Draco mumbled. He had his arm draped over his face, eyes shut and completely spent. 

“Wandless, sure,” Harry giggled and proceeded to lick him. 

Draco froze, eyes flying open to gaze at the man below him. Harry proceeded to _clean him_ with his tongue. “Potter, are you trying to kill me?” He whimpered. 

“Not a bad way to go, if you ask me,” Harry smiled widely. Draco’s heart pounded, and he swallowed thickly. 

No. It certainly was the best way to go. Of that, Draco was sure. 

The next morning, the sunlight filtered through the drapes of the window which created a reddish orange glow throughout the bedroom. Draco and Harry were tangled up together underneath the covers, and they wouldn’t have it any other way. When the light hit Draco’s face, he blinked open his eyes and finally took the time to notice the room. 

He started in alarm, wondering how on earth he missed all this? Harry’s room looked like a department store’s Christmas display. There was a giant tree pressed into the corner, with trinkets and lights and ornaments completely covering every surface. Various stockings hung all over the walls, wreaths of red, green, and gold twinkled merrily. There was a toy train on a track, chugging along above their heads. “Potter,” he jostled Harry by the shoulder. 

He grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “What?” 

“What in Merlin’s beard is all this?” 

Harry laughed, pulling Draco back down with him. Draco allowed himself to be kissed lazily, but then drew back and looked at him curiously. “Oh fine,” pouted Harry. “I like Christmas. I’ve accumulated a lot of decorations since the War, people giving me ornaments and the like. I couldn’t possibly throw it all away...” 

“But this is ghastly,” Draco looked around in horror. 

Harry laughed, kissing him once more. “Stop being such a Grinch.” 

“What’s a Grinch?” Draco furrowed his brows, confused. 

“All right,” Harry grinned, clapping his hands. “Let’s go downstairs. I have the absolute best movie to show you.” 

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, I've tried to keep on track with this challenge. I failed. Not to worry though, the story will be finished, I'm just going at my own pace now. Hope you lovelies had a Merry Christmas and a wonderful New Year! <3


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